


Sugar Baby

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst and Feels, BDSM, Boss Lena Luthor, Bratty Kara, Character Death, Dom Lena Luthor, F/F, HR Really Are Going To Piss Their Pants This Time, Lesbian Sex, Mentions of Cancer, Mommy Dom Lena Luthor, Mommy Domme, Office Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Sub Kara Danvers, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Threesome scene with veronica/lena/kara towards the middle, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Veronica dies, lesbian bdsm, mdlg, mommy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Kara is a sugar baby straight out of college that is trying to cover rent/bills in her new apartment. She goes to an interview to be Lena’s new assistant. The interview goes well until Kara’s phone keeps going off because her prospective-Mommy (Veronica) keeps messaging her. Lena tells Kara to show her her phone and when Kara hesitantly gives it to her, Lena gives her the job, with the condition that she stays after hours to please her.(MDLG|Sugar Mommy|Multiple Dynamics Going On Between Veronica/Lena/Kara)
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 283
Kudos: 1638





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t ideal.

It was a means to end, one that paid better than most, flexible hours, easy work—if it could even be described as work—and Kara had no qualms that the adult industry was as legitimate and valid as any other profession. However, being a sugar baby wasn’t ideal. She was on somebody else’s time, subject to their rules and requirements, and whether rent and bills would be covered from one month to the next was utterly reliant on Daddy’s benevolence. Or as Kara found out the hard way last month… whether Daddy’s _wife_ checked his bank statements and finally caught wind of their little arrangement.

Kara needed a job while she waited for a new reliable suitor, and she needed one fast.

“Cum Laude from Princeton.” The woman’s green eyes opened in surprise as she read the ample resume. “Jesus… No wonder Karen insisted you got an immediate interview…”

“Pardon me?” Kara blinked and came back to herself, awkwardly adjusting the vibrating purse on her lap — her phone had already gone off three times and she knew exactly who was calling. “Oh, yes, I double-majored and was top of both my classes."

“And being a personal secretary is what you aspire to?” Ms Luthor’s lips pushed a thin crimson smile, polite and yet unconvinced. “You would have no interest in interning with our engineering team?” The older woman pried.

“Mhm.” Kara nodded and shuffled uncomfortably as her purse vibrated again. “Interning for your engineering team sounds very prestigious but… I have bills to pay and student debt to clear.” She laughed and shrugged slightly. Ms Luthor pursed her lips and nodded at that.

“Miss Danvers your phone.” Ms Luthor glanced at her lap as though she was perfectly aware of who was calling too, disapproving almost. “It’s gone off four times, perhaps you should check and make sure it isn’t anything urgent.” Her manicured brow lifted sharply.

“Oh, erm, yes. Th-thank you. You’re right… it’s probably _very_ urgent.” Kara blushed red and rooted through her bag in search of the phone she should have put on silent.

Veronica Sinclair. Four messages and three missed calls.

  * _Baby you wouldn’t believe the day I am having…_  
  

  * _Are you wearing your butt plug like a good little whore?_  
  

  * _A thousand dollars transferred immediately to your spending account if you are. I want photographic evidence in the next five minutes._  
  

  * _(It better be the pink one that’s just a little too big for your bottom.)_



Kara looked at the time stamp on the text message. There was three minutes left on the offer, and god, did she need a thousand dollars around about now. She shifted her gaze back up to the scowler sat across the desk. Ms Luthor was almost chewing her back teeth as though she knew precisely what was going on — she was a worldly woman after all, the wealthiest and most powerful in the city, and if she didn’t have sugar babies of her own then it was simply a different vice that tickled her interest. She certainly had the money to fund a few.

“I need to use the bathroom—”

“Phone.” Ms Luthor snatched out her hand expectantly. “You think you’re the first little sparrow my competitors have sent to spy on our patents?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Oh.” Kara wanted to laugh but she somehow managed to resist. “I—I promise you… that is not what is happening right now…”

“Give me the phone, Miss Danvers.”

“I really don’t think you want to see what is on this phone, Ms Luthor.”

“Oh, my dear.” Her eyes glistened with thinly-held outrage. “I believe I do.”

When the phone was handed over, when the older woman’s green eyes scanned over the text messages on the screen, thumb scrolling up to reveal the pictures Kara had sent this morning when she got out of the shower… there was no where for the outrage to go. Ms Luthor’s expression softened and her cheeks grew flush, eyes darting away from the screen as though she were embarrassed and unsure of what to say. Good, Kara thought. She had warned Ms Luthor fair and square of what she would find if she went noseying through the messages, and if truth be told, the salary package she was offering for this little personal secretary gig was nothing more than two butt plug pictures and a thirty-second video of her edging herself. Less than a day’s work, in Kara’s books.

“I’ll see myself out,” Kara lifted her chin defiantly and went to snatch the phone out of the big boss’s hand.

“Ah ah—” Ms Luthor moved her hand away and clutched the phone tighter. She paused and looked Kara up and down, her crimson lips forming a tight and indiscernible expression. “A thousand dollars for a picture of your stuffed rear-end, Miss Danvers? Quite the pay-day. Why would you want a job that pays as menial as this one?” Her voice bloomed with curiosity.

“The salary of a personal secretary certainly doesn’t pay all of the bills but it’s a start on the career ladder. The sugar baby stuff… I only have maybe five good years left.” Kara shrugged and answered honestly. “Might as well prepare for the future, right?” She skipped over the part where she was late on last month’s rent.

Ms Luthor pushed a genuine smile at the candor.

“Miss Danvers you’re free to leave,” she said casually and stood out of the executive chair, wandering around the desk with graceful poised steps until she came to a stop beside the naughty one’s seat. “Or… you could bend over and lift up your dress and we can earn you a thousand dollars? Maybe discuss if there’s a way for you to…” She paused as though thinking of the right words. “Earn a consistently substantial amount more? You have a minute and thirty seconds remaining, by my count.” She waved the phone.

Kara inhaled a deep breath and stood out of her seat. She was going to take her phone and walk away, truly, she was. Then she caught the older woman’s glittering eyes and the scent of her perfume, light and expensive and soft to the nose. Ms Luthor was beautiful. She was forty-something years old with the confidence to boot. Her arms were faintly muscular, the ligaments and definition softened slightly by her maturity, but Kara briefly imagined the way she might look without her expensive dress, washing her hair in the shower early in the morning straight from the gym, shoulders tight with worked trapeze muscles while her thighs sat thicker and softer in that delicious way older women’s thighs aged like fine wine.

What exactly did Kara have to lose? She was looking for a Mommy after all, and by the sounds of things Lena was interested in the sales pitch.

Kara stood up and bent over the desk. On the inside, she was aroused, purposeful, intentful, palpably aware of just how to drop her back low and shyly lift the hem of her dress to reveal every inch of her tight thighs slowly… on the outside she was blushing and mumbling nervously — if only because she knew it would turn the older woman on. Lena Luthor had a sexual power complex alright, whether she was aware of it or not was yet to be decided.

“There’s a good girl…” Ms Luthor gently brushed a hand down her spine and tugged her panties to the side. “So you came to a job interview with me, in person, for a menial little assistant job with a steel plug slick and snug inside your bottom?” She pushed on the pink jewel.

“If that’s what I’m told to do… then yes ma’am, I do what I’m told to do.”

“And that’s who you bend the knee for? Veronica Sinclair?” Ms Luthor husked behind her ear. “Spread your cheeks, let’s give her something special to remember you by.”

Kara did as she was told and heard the distinctive snap of the camera and the bright glare of the flash.

“Remember me by?” Kara whispered. “What makes you think I’m not loyal to her?”

“You said you’re preparing for the future.” Kara heard the whooshing sound of an iMessage being sent and began to lower her skirt back down. “Ah ah, perhaps you should stay as you are. I think you and I might have quite the opportunity for something… mutually beneficial.”

“I’m… I’m listening,” Kara stuttered and stayed exactly so.

“Perhaps there could be room for the job role here to be expanded?” The older woman mused aloud and delicately lifted the hem of Kara’s dress back over her hips. “Other responsibilities, daily tasks, chores and such… you would be heavily compensated of course.”

“Ms Luthor,” Kara cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’m afraid you can’t be tacit about these things. I need explicitness concerning your requirements, I need explicitness concerning the compensation—”

“You would be my personal secretary and you would also be my little mommy’s girl too. Service me sexually, submit to my authority, present yourself when instructed, fulfill my office fantasies and… perhaps a few of my domestic ones too? From time to time, of course.” Ms Luthor spoke without any reservation or embarrassment. 

Kara realised a bit too suddenly that the big boss was expertly aware of her sexual power complex — and her confidence about the matter left the sugar baby slick and eager.

“And the compensation, Mommy?” Kara watched Ms Luthor smile in the reflection of the highrise window.

“Well well, a thousand dollars for picture of your stuffed bottom was quite the hefty price for thirty seconds worth of labour.” Ms Luthor grinned wolfishly as though it were chump change. “I imagine that kind of money is merely Veronica showing off some plumage to keep your interest in her direction… a number that holds your attention, if only in the moment, but cannot be depended on from one month to the next. I dread to think how much a little studio costs in the city these days…” Ms Luthor trailed as though her own youth were a distant memory.

“I would need ten thousand dollars a month absolute minimum, legitimate taxable salary, with benefits, a nine to five arrangement with at least twenty-four hours notice if you require me outside of that window of time. Oh, plus dinner dates at least once a week,” Kara asserted herself firmly. “Nice places, swanky spots, Michelin stars, that kind of thing.”

“Ah, she’s a foodie too?” Ms Luthor chuckled slightly, thoroughly impressed. “You’re hired Miss Danvers, thank you for such a mercifully quick negotiation. I’ll have legal draw something up in terms of a basic employment contract. As for the more private particulars of our arrangement… perhaps you and I can negotiate that over our first dinner?” Ms Luthor smirked as though the benefit package were mere pocket money.

“Wait. I… I said the ten thousand was minimum?” Kara scoffed slightly. 

Sugar daddies… they were proud creatures, they enjoyed spoiling, luxuriating, fluttering their money if only to show the abundance of it that they had. Ms Luthor was the wealthiest woman in the city. Kara had assumed, quite foolishly, that she would respond in same and high-ball her offer. Perhaps twenty thousand a month, perhaps even thirty plus a nice apartment somewhere on the up and up. Ms Luthor just laughed and patted Kara’s bottom as though she were little fool.

“Then consider this your first lesson, Miss Danvers.” The raven haired woman walked back around to her desk and primly sat herself down. Kara moved and went to stand too. “Ah ah— _as you were_.” Ms Luthor snapped her fingers sternly and pointed back to her desk. 

Kara gulped like a deer in headlights.

“I want to look at your pretty face, Miss Danvers.” Kara was both drawn and startled by the sudden change in demeanour, but she did exactly as she was told. “I want to watch the way you pout at me like a little petulant girl who has just been taught a difficult lesson. Do it, now. You get that dress back up around your waist and push your little wet cunt out towards the door. Anyone could walk in, which is just fine by me, and therefor it is just fine by you too. Are we quite clear with one another?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Kara whispered and felt her face naturally obey the order.

“No no, I think I want to hear you use the other word that sounds so pretty in your mouth.” Kara felt herself blush.

“Yes Mommy,” Kara whispered and felt arousal blossom in a way that didn’t come naturally when she was doing this kind of thing. “Sorry, Mommy,” she said it again simply because she wanted to see Ms Luthor lift the corners of her thin lips.

“Good girl, there we are.” Ms Luthor smiled proudly. “Now… I think I would like to see you take off that dress and kneel right here so we can discuss exactly what your first real day will look like tomorrow...”

Kara smiled, because the older woman had made the easy mistake of taking her for a young little fool, and it was a mistake that she intended to nip in the bud sooner rather than later. Kara was proficient at many hobbies, a sugar baby, an academic, a foodie, and also a rip-roaring clever little brat too.

“Oh would you look at that.” Kara snapped her eyes up to the clock on the wall. “Five o’ clock. If you’ll excuse me, Mommy, I have to get to my appointment. I’ll be sure to be here on time at the required nine o’clock start, we can resume this then.”

“Appointment?” Ms Luthor’s face twitched.

“Yes, my appointment.” Kara grabbed her purse. “I told you, the ten thousand is minimum. I assume you don’t expect your minimum wage employees to work late? Especially when they have second jobs...” She thumbed through her phone absent-mindedly and clicked one name in particular.

It was a risky move, one that could send this whole tentative rudimentary agreement crashing down there and then. Kara felt confident this time though; she had pegged Lena Luthor entirely wrong and it wasn’t a mistake she intended on making again. Ms Luthor was ruthless alright, a woman who usually got her own way but loved a little tussle nonetheless, and from the corner of her eyes, she watched the older woman seethe furiously and become palpably aware of what exactly was happening.

“Hello, Veronica—”

“Twenty thousand.” Ms Luthor hissed with clenched hands.

“One sec,” Kara covered the receiver and peered at the brooder. “I’m sorry what was that, Ma’am?” she asked sweetly.

“Twenty thousand and you tell Veronica Sinclair right now where to shove her measly grand.” It made Kara smile. “Twenty thousand, exclusivity, you work for and are owned by no one but **me**.”

“Veronica… I’m just calling to give you the good news.” Kara watched Ms Luthor’s face twitch again with uncertainty. “I’m with Lena Luthor as we speak… the interview went well. She loved the plug you had me wear… she loved it so much that she wants me all for herself. Enjoy the pictures, they won’t keep you warm at night but I guess you’ll have to take whatever scraps Mommy _decides_ you get.” She clicked the phone and threw it in her bag.

If Ms Luthor was angry before, then there suddenly wasn’t a single trace of it now. She sat there with her green eyes crinkled and glittering, grinning wolfishly, impressed beyond words.

“Well… you certainly told her.”

“I do exactly what Mommy tells me to do.” Kara pushed a sweet and polite smile. “I do have to go though, I promised my sister I would be around. Would you like me to bring coffee and breakfast for you tomorrow morning? Also… do I call you Ms Luthor or… you know?” Kara blushed slightly.

“Yes to coffee and breakfast, and as for nomenclature I would appreciate situational judgement depending on what we’re doing and who is around.” Ms Luthor became courteous and professional, almost. It was a reassuring sign that this could be a long term arrangement. She pushed out a small business card. “This is my personal phone number, you will guard it within an inch of your life, and I expect pictures of you playing with that pretty little plug in your bottom when you tuck yourself in tonight. Are we quite clear?”

“Yes Mommy,” Kara whispered and leaned over the desk to plant a chaste kiss against the older woman’s cheek. “Hot coffee, a bagel for breakfast, lots of pictures of me playing with my bottom tonight.”

“And Kara?”

“Yes Mommy?”

“Stop at the Agent Provocateur on Third on your way over here tomorrow.” Ms Luthor thumbed a few one-hundred bills out of her pocket. “Get yourself something worth my prolonged attention, or assume you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

“Understood Mommy.” Kara felt her heart flutter.

[Read more wholesome Christian scripture study HERE.](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**A MONTH LATER**

**-**

It rained for two weeks straight. It sloshed up the gutters, battered the windows, drenched the world outside and made for dark and angry overcast skies. Inside, Lena worked and went over one urgent report from finance and another from the engineering department — flicking between the two like a mad woman with only so many hours in the day to get things done.

“Miss Luthor it hurts,” a little voice whined quietly from the corner of the office.

“It’s supposed to hurt.”

“Really, really bad.”

“It’s supposed to,” Lena chided again.

“Please can it be over yet?”

“No.”

Kara whined, “But Mo—”

“Don’t you dare use that word right now. I’m busy. You take your time out like a good girl and show me you can be obedient.” The tip-tap of the keyboard became aggressive and purposeful.

“Please,” Kara huffed more desperately and pressed her forehead entirely to the wall. “Please Miss Luthor, please. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“Good. I will make it hurt a whole lot more if you try and take it out, Miss Danvers.”

“Miss Luthor I can’t—” Lena heard the tearful wobble of her voice force the sentence to come undone. Kara breathed, then again, steadying herself. “I can’t keep it inside my bottom for much longer,” she whimpered nervously.

“Oh you can and you will.” Lena lifted her finger in the naughty one’s general vicinity, hushing the complaints. “I’m busy. If you don’t like the punishment, do not commit the crime.”

“Miss Luthor I’m sorry, really really.”

“Ah ah!” She cut it off again, frustrated and battering the keyboard with an absolutely steaming temper. “I don’t ask you for gluten free bagels because I’m hip or trendy, Miss Danvers. I don’t want to hear the excuses. You entirely deserve this punishment.”

“I know that now, Ma’am, and I’m—” Lena listened to the unnatural, hesitant pause. “I really, really am _so_ unbelievably sorry that I forgot. It was an honest mistake. If I had realised you were actually gluten intolerant I really would have been more diligent,” the naughty assistant pleaded.

“Celiac disease, Miss Danvers.” Lena snapped her glimmering, furious eyes to the corner of the room. “You are _lucky_ that I caught your mistake after one bite — you cannot fathom the pain I would have been in.”

Kara stood with her nose touching the corner of the office walls, completely naked, trembling, tearful and utterly sorry. The plug had been smeared with a little vapor rub, a tiny amount really, although certainly enough to correct her conduct in future.

The plug had been forced against her gleaming anus with relentless pressure until she cried out and gobbled it up despite her best efforts to bare down and fight it. When her body had finally betrayed her, when the widest part slipped inside and the flare settled against her tight little twitching anus, Kara had cried something fierce from the humiliation and instant sting. It was a productive start in Lena’s books, Kara had been her personal secretary for little under a month now and slip-ups like mixing up her bagel order came with an absolute zero-tolerance policy.

She leaned back in her chair and watched Kara sniffle and weep against the wall. Her bottom was aching from the inside out, stretched, snug, suckling on a red-hot sting with every tiny movement.

“Are we going to have this problem again in future?” Kara desperately shook her head at that. “Good, I should hope not.”

There was a long pause, and Lena watched the little one’s ribcage shudder and tremble as though she were on the absolute brink of herself.

“I want Mommy,” Kara whispered tearfully.

There was something about that word that instantly changed dynamics. Forty-two years old, Forbes billionaire, decision-maker, chief executive officer, ruthlessly successful; Lena had spent her entire life molding herself into the picture of the mirthless woman who had it all and with that came the sacrifice of relationships, interpersonal and romantic, period. But when Kara said that word—every syllable aching out of her chest as though it physically hurt to utter it—it did something to the big boss every time. 

Thirty days, and Miss Danvers has managed to press her fingers into a precise and tiny tender spot of the big boss’s heart.

“Okay, alright,” Lena softened and sighed, her bad mood gone with the wind. “Come here. Come, you can be finished now. I mean it though, Kara, if you do that again it will be me making you ache back there instead of a little glob of Vicks.” The severe warning did nothing to stop the crybaby barrelling to sit in her lap and snuggle against her neck.

On the 32nd floor of the L-Corp building, Lena became about as close to Heaven as one woman could get in National City. Through her panoramic windows the sky was angry and violent, barely visible, whipping the streets into a thundering torrent. On an ordinary day the inability to see from Grand Park down to Chinatown — the astounding view of a jam-packed city on the brink of rush hour — would be enough to put her in a naturally bad mood, but the crybaby clutched her so tight that it was so though the world simply stopped at the edge of her shoulder blades. There wasn’t anything to be disappointed about, not really at least.

Gluten free mix-up be damned.

Blonde hair tickling her chin, thin spine hiccuping beneath her soothing palm, shoulders clambered over as though she were the most expensive jungle gym on the entire east coast; Lena Luthor had a most welcome distraction from this morning’s reports. 

“There there, just breathe,” Lena sighed against her blonde hair and cupped the back of her elbow. “Would you like to go and take it out and clean yourself up?”

Kara timidly shook her head against the nook of the big boss’s throat and clutched behind her neck a bit tighter.

“Well alright then.” Lena blinked and stayed put.

“If I’m not hurting then you will stop being nice to me.”

“Not true.”

“Very true, Mommy.” Kara pulled back and Lena swore she saw the tiniest shadow of a smile trying not to burst. “You only like me when I’ve been crying,” Kara teased.

“Also not true,” Lena looked at the ceiling, at the windows, exasperated in a funny kind of way, rubbing her temple even though she liked the brattiness. “You’re very impressive and you’re not _too_ irritating — which is quite the accomplishment given my track record with assistants. I just... can’t be Mommy all of the time.” Lena glanced down to her backlogged desk. “Not when there is a full in-tray and a wheat-based cream cheese bagel that I’m not allowed to eat making slut eyes at me from the plate.”

“I really am sorry about that.”

“Good, don’t let it happen again,” Lena said instantly and gently rubbed the back of her bicep. “Your butt, how are we doing in that department?”

“Sore, stingy, the pain has come down a lot now.”

“It’s certainly quite the challenge. Fifteen minutes from application, give or take. Two minutes or so and it will just be a cool, tingly sensation.” This was not her first rodeo, not even her hundredth, and they both knew as much.

“Well that does sound promising, Mommy.” Kara buried her cheek against the older woman’s sturdy chest. “Minty-fresh tingly butthole,” she mumbled with a smile as though it were a joke all to herself.

Lena laughed and nodded to her locked office door. “Go, clean yourself up. I have a ten o’ clock and then a conference call with the regional vice-presidents that will take me to lunch.”

“And my orders for the day, Mommy?” Kara peered with big blue obedient eyes.

“Get the admin finished and file the paperwork away, when you’re done with that go and make a second attempt on a gluten-free bagel for me, and also make reservations for somewhere you want to eat tonight.” Lena helped the wobbler stand off her lap. “There’s a good girl,” she sighed and happily gleaned the gorgeous tight body in front of her.

“You know I was thinking…” Kara straightened herself and took a glance in the reflection, suddenly distracted by the little fading bruise on her bottom as she grabbed her panties, then her dress.

“Dangerous business, but do continue.” Lena smirked.

“Oh, sorry.” Kara smiled and came back to herself, throwing clothing back on. “You mentioned you would have domestic requirements when we went through the finer details of our arrangement. Sleepovers, after hours type of things...” Kara reminded, skirting around whatever point she wanted to make while the heels were put back on.

“I did.”

“You haven’t asked me to come over yet.”

“You require twenty-four hours of notice.”

“And?” The little troublemaker looked at her with a severe pout.

“I rarely have twenty-four hours of notice to give.” Lena shrugged.

“Well,” Kara pushed out her cheeks and sighed, thinking about it. “I’m not busy tonight?”

“Is that so?” Lena felt her eyes crease and twinkle, ideas blooming and brooding in an instantaneous swirl. “A first sleepover… that could be very risky business, Miss Danvers.”

“Well we agreed on exclusivity and I’ve not… you know.” Kara gestured with her hands like it was a game of charades, as though she didn’t want to be explicit but it had been nearly a month since she last had sex and that was becoming a pressing issue. “You’ve edged me a lot the last two weeks,” she reasoned.

“And I’ll edge you for two more if you’re not the picture of decorum and politeness tonight, little mouse.” Lena stood up and booped her nose. “But yes, a sleepover sounds nice. Should I assume it’s more of a hot BDSM thing or a soft quality time thing?”

“Both. Can both be the answer, Ma’am?” Kara beamed.

“Maybe.” Lena chewed a smirk. “Bring an overnight bag and a better attitude than you did when you came into work this morning.” She pulled a fifty dollar bill out of the top pocket of her suit jacket. “Cute pyjamas, I want the cutest pyjamas and the most fantastic snacks.” She pushed it into her babygirl’s palm.

“That’s gonna run you to at least a hundred, Mommy.”

“A hundred for fucking fluffy pyjamas and a Hershey bar?” Lena levelled a stare.

“You said the cutest. You said the most fantastic snacks,” Kara shrugged and held out her hand.

Lena rolled her eyes and thumbed another bill out of her pocket. She grumbled and handed it over, still in utter disbelief of how things had spiked. Twenty years ago when she was in college, one-fifty was a month’s groceries plus a hundred in change.

“Inflation is a bitch, back in my day—” She stopped in instant embarrassment. “God, I sound like my father. I’m showing my age when I say things like that…”

“You’re only as old as the woman you feel,” Kara lifted her brows and pocketed the money. “So you’re very wise and accomplished for a girl of twenty-two, Mommy.”

“I’m nearly _twice_ that, young lady.”

“I know.” Kara nodded and dropped her voice to a sultry whisper, “I like it.”

“Get out.” Lena pointed to the door and felt her cunt ache for that slutty little mouth. “Go. Now. You get out of here before you derail my morning any further.”

“See you around, Mommy,” Kara chastily pecked her cheek and made her exit.

***

“Kara it’s fucking weird.” Alex hung by the bedroom door, her expression full of big sister disapproval. “She’s… _you know_.” The words wouldn’t come to her naturally.

“My boss?”

“Well, that too.” Alex didn’t want to say what she was really thinking, although they both knew what it was. “Don’t you think it’s kind of predatory?” She skirted.

“You didn’t think it was predatory when it was a much older man being my sugar daddy.” Kara finished curling her hair, her foot jammed into the edge of the bed frame, belly pushed forward into her knee cap as the rollers came out at the back of her head. “In fact, you thought it was hysterical and brilliant.” She shot Alex a withering look.

“That’s because it made sense!” Alex threw her hands in the air defensively. “Old rich men are gross. They’re pigs. It’s just… how their fucking brains are wired. Why _not_ take advantage of that? But now it’s Lena Luthor paying you twenty-thousand dollars a month to pretend to be a child and I think that deserves deeper pathological examination.”

“That is **not** what it’s about!” Kara barked a little too defensively at her older sister. “You can think it’s weird—you don’t even have to try and understand it—but _do not_ conflate this with something dirty and sinister. I am twenty-two, we are both adults.”

“Oh come on! She is old enough to be your mother, Kara.”

“That doesn’t change that I’m a twenty-two year old adult.” Kara stood firm on the topic.

“I still don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to?” Alex slumped and became conflicted. “I mean, I can see you’re happy. I do. I… I want to understand, please help me?”

“She likes to take care of me, she likes to boss me around, and I like that she likes that.” Kara shrugged and took her frustration out on unwinding bouncy curls, tossing the spent ones back on the dresser. She turned back to her sister with a sigh, “This isn’t like it was when it was with James, Alex. This is me making a personal choice for myself — not just for survival.” Kara felt strange finally admitting that aloud.

“Fine, cool, so you’re a big ol’ dyke like me. I’ll fire up the bubble machine and we can have a family float at pride this year. Mom has _always_ seen this coming too, Kara, trust me, we all did.” Alex tried to make her see reason, still. “Can’t you just… be a lesbian with someone your own age?”

“Wait.” Kara turned and cocked a look at her older sister. “Mom always thought I was a lesbian too?”

“You wore dungarees to prom and asked for a Harley Davidson for your thirteenth birthday. Do not blame Mommy for drawing to natural conclusions.” It took Kara everything not to snort at the strangeness of that word being used in the correct context. “Do you not think this is super weird and coercive? She’s your boss, she’s like a thousand years old.” Alex’s expression putrefied.

“Forty-two.”

“Old enough to be your mother.”

Kara finally had enough. She stopped fiddling with her bouncy hair and turned her whole body around to face her sister, back teeth grinding and irritated beyond belief on Lena’s behalf.

“Say what you actually fucking mean, Alex.”

“What are you talking—”

“ **You** think it’s super weird. You think it’s coercive. You think it’s sinister. You think it’s gross that she is twice my age. The thought of her making me say the word Mommy turns you inside out.” Kara lifted her chin defiantly. “And the thing you cannot stand the most—what really gets your panties in a twist, Alex—is the thought of me loving every damn second of it.” She folded her arms.

“Pshht! Nope. You shhh-shut the front door—” Alex came undone with an embarrassed, awkward laugh. “I fully support you, Kara, and I want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“Unless that thing is me being bent over my Mommy’s lap with her fingers stuffed up my butt while she wildly bids on the eBay auctions I’ve saved to my favorites?” Kara lifted a manicured brow.

“Do you _have_ to use that word?” Alex winced.

“I like using that word.” Kara’s arms folded tighter and she dug her heels in. “I like being her baby girl, Alex. Me, your sister. I like it. Forget about Lena for a sec, _I like it_.” She pressed her finger into her own chest.

“You’re seriously telling me that like pretending to be a—”

“Okay we’re obviously not getting anywhere productive with this conversation.” Kara scoffed and clambered up to finish getting ready. “It’s not about infantilism. It’s… it’s about…” Her blue eyes shot to the ceiling as though the eloquent answers were written on the lightbulb.

Alex sighed in concession.

“I don’t need to understand, remember?” She gave her an apologetic look, well aware she had pushed too hard. “Look, so long as you’re happy. Just… can you please not tell me if she starts breastfeeding you?”

“Get out.” Kara launched throw cushions and sent the smirker ducking and bobbing. “Seriously, get out of my apartment!”

“Kara Danvers we are not finishing this argument until you tell me you love me!” Alex barked from behind the door frame she had taken cover behind.

“Fine.” Kara seethed, still. “But only a tiny bit.”

“Fine,” Alex parrotted. “I love you a tiny bit too and I’m sorry for not understanding but I’m happy you’re happy. And stop fucking around with your hair—you have fifteen minutes, if that.”

 _Fuck_ , Kara looked at her watch and realised fifteen was a generous guess.

“Okay, the argument is finished, I love you, really love you, but please fuck off back to your own home Alex because you’re going to make me late,” Kara whined and rubbed her temples frantically.

***

The restaurant was located in a renovated cathedral overlooking the Trocadero and for anyone who wasn’t Lena Luthor the next available reservation was in the Spring of 2023. The view was superb, the food was even better, and Kara had absolutely zero complaints.

“Your sister knows that we…” Lena inhaled and held onto it for a moment, as though she truly could not believe what she had just been told. Her emerald eyes slipped to the impeccable view, to the finished plate, as though gathering up her thoughts together. “Your sister knows?” She lifted a dark eyebrow in Kara’s direction.

“You asked what my day was like.” Kara shrugged her shoulders and finished chewing her food. “We also agreed that I would never, ever lie to you.”

“Your sister knows?” Lena repeated a little more firmly.

“You asked me to never lie to—”

“Your _sister_ knows?”

“My sister knows.” Kara glanced to her empty champagne glass as the waiter discreetly cleared things away, her voice dropping to a polite tone. “And a bottle of that to go, please. Is my sister knowing a problem, Ma’am?” She glanced back to the pensive thinker.

“No. I mean—I didn’t really need to hear the finer details of the conversation but…” Lena blinked and didn’t know what to say. “You told your sister about all of this? About me?” She couldn’t let it go.

“You’re not something I’m ashamed of.”

“You’ve known me for less than a month.”

“Providing you don’t go bankrupt this quarter I’ll know you for at least two more.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I am, a tiny bit.” Kara’s smile twinkled brightly. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Yes, I am twenty years younger than you. Yes, we have a transactional arrangement. Yes, I am here outside the regular rules of engagement because it makes _me_ happy; none of these things are something I am going to be made to feel guilty about.” Kara crossed her arms petulantly. “I don’t know how to be a guilty little wallflower and I don’t want to be.”

A small tempered smile pushed up the older woman’s cheeks. 

“No.” The corner of Lena’s mouth twitched. “You’re something far more interesting indeed,” she said into her wine glass, thoroughly amused.

The grin crinkled her emerald green eyes and bunched a few lines on her forehead, which in turn made Kara smile and feel as though a flutter of butterflies were having a little moshpit in her heart. She liked the way Lena looked when she genuinely smiled.

All the women in the city once they hit a certain unspoken age started with the botox, the fillers, the thread lifts, the new wonderful thing straight from some Moscow aesthetician clinic; things that were supposed to make them look twenty-something but instead slowly turned them into a police facial composite created from the description given by an eyewitness who once brushed past them a little too closely at an Easter church service back in 2002. It was hilarious, but most of all it was sad, because there was nothing more beautiful than a woman who had a little life and history in her skin and didn’t care to try and scrub it clean.

Forty-two was nothing to balk at anyway — not to Kara at least. It wasn’t that Lena looked younger than her age or like the years had been _generously_ kind to her; the justification wasn’t that Lena looked barely thirty years old and therefore age was just a number. She was forty with gorgeous alabaster skin that had started to soften, a few tiny lines around her eyes here and there, cleavage that had dropped a tiny bit and somehow made her figure more ample because of that. Lena Luthor was forty and she damn well looked it. There was nothing shameful about that. As far as Kara was concerned, she was the most beautiful woman in the room. She wore her forties positively wonderfully like a dress tailor-made for her body.

“You told your sister about me like it was no big deal,” Lena whispered almost to herself, as though it were a self-realisation rather than a question to be answered.

“Would you like to be a big deal?”

“Perhaps,” Lena lied with a small smirk.

“I think you’re bored of that.”

“Being a big deal?” Lena scoffed. “I’ve given up most of my life to be a big deal. It will be a sad, sad day indeed if ever I am bored of it.” Her eyes glittered as she sipped her drink.

“Well I don’t care that you’re a big deal,” Kara leaned forward and whispered it cheekily, as though it were a tiny bratty secret just for them. “I’m not here during my free time because I’m enthralled by the letters after your name.”

“A whopper of a lie if ever there was one, Miss Danvers.”

“Kara.” She pouted and wanted her real name. “We’re not at work, we’re not at your place yet. Right now, I’m Kara.”

“Fine, Kara.” Lena shifted in her chair slightly and pushed her chair forward. She had a stern look in her eyes but it wasn’t angry, it was simply… _certain_. “I call bullshit. You like that I’m a big deal, you like it because when I slip my hand under your dress and give you my attention for just a few fleeting seconds during my busy day, it makes _you_ feel like a big deal. I am forty, I have been around the block, and I know this story back to front. Do not try and play me for a fool, little girl.” Lena blinked slowly.

Kara felt a foot slip between her parted knees, under the hemline of her dress, the flat of a Louboutin pressing hard into her aching vulva. It earned the tiniest break in her facial expression, a deep exhale because it had been well over a month since she had been touched there with any sense of intention for orgasms. She fixed her eyes on the big boss and bit her bottom lip, her hand slipping down to rub the top of the ankle pushing at her cunt.

“I changed my mind. Can we go back to your place now?”

“Try again.”

“Can we go back to your place now, Mommy?” Kara whispered.

“Much better.” Lena’s smile gleamed. “Although, maybe I’ll make you wait until I’ve perused the dessert menu and had a coffee to wash it—”

“But I really want you to fuck me with a strap-on that feels a little bit too big and roleplay like it’s my first time having sex?”

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ.” Lena grew stiff and wide-eyed, her head almost comically snapping around to see if anyone heard what the bratty one had just bashfully said. She was just as aroused by the idea too, Kara could instantly tell. “Get your purse,” Lena almost stumbled over the words in her mouth.

Kara moved idly, slowly almost, well aware she had won this game like a cat that caught the cream. She sighed and pushed a small smile, eyes narrowing as though Lena Luthor had no idea what she had gotten herself in for.

“Mommy if you liked that just wait until you hear about what I want you to do with your fist tonight,” Kara dropped her voice to a tiny whisper and watched the older woman’s eyes glaze.

“I said grab your _damn_ purse.” Lena’s eyes grew alight.

[CLICK HERE FOR MORE BAPTIST CHRISTIAN TABERNACLE STUDY](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

The penthouse was too much and too little. It was entirely Lena Luthor. It was entirely unlike Lena Luthor. Kara had imagined a water fountain for some reason, glugging away in the middle of a vast marble reception with renaissance painting hung here and there. Two winding mahogany staircases forking around it, leading to the kind of opulent and unnecessary rooms that befitted the one-percent of the one-percent. A banquet dining room, a cigar humidor despite the fact she didn’t smoke, a crystalline dressing room with Faberge eggs and decorative crystal glasses overfilled with diamonds, that was how she imagined her sugar mommy’s home. Tasteless and opulent.

It was impractical of course, and it was inspired from too many Sims 3 cheat codes. The reality of Lena’s home was far more modest.

“What?” Lena side glanced as she put her keys in the opal dish, Louboutin heels balancing off the other pinky. “You look disappointed?”

“Of course not,” Kara reassured and took her place in. “It’s just… different than I was expecting.”

“Dare I ask?”

“I imagined you lived in an ivory tower.” The open planned space was luxurious, clinically tidy, but not opulent. “It’s kind of a relief that you don’t live fancy.” Kara shrugged and smiled.

Lena fixed a confused expression. “Not fancy? I live in a two bedroom penthouse on the Troca—” She stopped and closed her eyes, sighing and suddenly aware. “You mean you thought I live how a twenty year old girl with too much money to spend would live… that’s adorable, _truly_.” A small snort escaped her.

“You’re one of the wealthiest women in the world, can you really blame me for thinking you might have a private zoo collection and a cinema?”

“I’m also forty-two years old with a sixty-hour a week job, I do not have time to clean out a tiger enclosure when I come home at night.” Lena chuckled slightly and took off her coat, handing the louboutins and the jacket and the purse as though Kara were the help. “Go put Mommy’s things away and put your pyjamas on. I’ll figure out something passable for dessert.”

“Can I… you know?” Kara glanced around the pristine white walls and then to the wooden slat staircase, leading up to rooms yet unseen.

“Yes, go and explore. That reminds me that I need to get a key cut for you and give your details to the front desk—”

“What?” Kara stumbled.

“Don’t get any big ideas.” Her emerald eyes shone with amusement from the marble island in the kitchen. “You’re my personal secretary. There will be times I need you to come over and pick things up, drop things off, that kind of thing.” She pulled a bottle of white from the fridge beneath the counter.

“Oh, I don’t drink white.” Kara nodded to the bottle.

“I know and I didn’t offer,” Lena replied instantly. “Go, hurry up. I’ll meet you in the cinema room... if you can find it.” Kara remained unsure if this was a joke or not, and she decided not to press for clarification.

The upstairs of the penthouse was pristinely clean and uniform. The walls were white, the colours of the furniture all varying shades of black and dark stone grey with light opal accents here and there. It was utilitarian, it was still feminine, and Kara quickly decided that the older woman had good taste. 

Despite how it all sounded, Lena’s home felt pleasantly lived in — painfully clean, but lived in — it was the smell of her perfume that did it, Kara thought. There was a particular scent that Lena wore that was so… _Lena_. It smelled of oud and rose, masculine and floral simultaneously, the dark basenote of leather cutting the gentle wafts of rose with a dirty twist. It was expensive, sultry, the kind of scent that came from a perfumer maison in a personalised wooden box with the price to boot. It was an older woman’s perfume, it was sweet in the absence of sweetness, masculine in the absence of masculinity, and it lingered in Lena’s master bedroom like a ghost of where she had been. 

Kara breathed and followed it around, almost.

She remembered herself and eventually got changed into her new pyjamas—dusty-pink with soft marabou feathers around the cuffs, because Lena had specified the best and cutesiest and Kara felt some determination to meet her expectations—and then she went exploring. There were framed photos on the walls and cupboards, between winding her hair into two messy piggy buns with scrunchies either wrist, she danced her fingers over the pictures from one room to the next and felt as though she were getting the quick history of the older woman’s life.

When she piqued her head around the home study, that was when she discovered the spot that was most Lena-ish. Unlike her office at L-Corp there wasn’t a bit of polished glass in sight, not a single piece of gleaming white furniture begging for smear marks and fingerprints. The desk was a great big oak monstrosity with brass clamshell handles, no doubt an heirloom or antique. It sat out as funny in the context of her monochrome chic apartment — but this room was like a little bubble on top of all of that. Plants everywhere, mahogany furniture, bookcases, it was both a jungle and a polite mess.

Kara figured the rest of the home was for guests and show, this room was where the big boss spent most of her time. There were art books piled everywhere, too many to fit on the shelves. A dinged Macbook with a coffee ring on the top on the corner of her desk. A vinyl player with stacks of albums piled next to it. That drew the curious one closer, and Kara thumbed through them carefully. 

Apparently Lena liked grunge, which again was a funny little revelation. She couldn’t imagine her prim and proper Mommy moshing in a plaid shirt and converse — and thankfully she didn’t have to. Kara glanced and grinned at the old college pictures sat on the bookshelf. God, Lena must have been no older than twenty-one. 

Lena hadn’t changed much and yet she was practically unrecognisable, it was the context of the picture that did it. Lena was sat in a huddled bunch of friends, Nirvana band t-shirt cut up and tied at the mid-drift, her eyebrows plucked tiny and thin, an old-fashioned aqua blue iBook propped on the coffee table. Kara leaned forward and scoffed in disbelief at the overflowing ashtray and half-smoked joint. Lena Luthor— _a grungy liberal stoner_ —who would have thought.

“Ah,” a voice hummed from the door and startled her. “So, the little mouse has discovered my college years.” Lena smirked until it crinkled her eyes ever so slightly.

“You haven’t changed much,” Kara turned back to the photos and furrowed her brow in amusement at them.

“Oh, I have changed plenty.”

“You know what I mean. Your face hasn’t changed, you just look younger there, baby faced, maybe.” She pointed to a backwards baseball cap and a silly expression.

“I should think so. I’m old enough to be that girl’s mother,” Lena scoffed and leaned in to look at a girl she didn’t quite recognise. “God, I must be what… eighteen there?” She did the math.

“Younger than me?” Kara beamed mischievously at the older woman.

“You wouldn’t have been born when that picture was taken.” Lena seemed dumbfounded, her fingers scratching the side of her head where taut temple and tight ponytail met. “Christ, I remember it like it was yesterday and you weren’t even born.” She scoffed again.

“Don’t. Please, do not do that.” Kara narrowed her stare seriously.

“Do what?” Lena furrowed.

“The thing where you act like we’re miles apart from one another.” Kara turned back and plucked a photo right off the bookshelf. She offered it forward to the human smirk insistently. “This girl? She seems nice. Attractive, for sure. But…” Kara paused and stepped forward, her stare never faltering for a moment. “She’s just a baby. She doesn’t have veins on the back of her hands yet. She can’t take care of me, not the way you do, Mommy.”

“Are you talking about financially?” Lena lifted her brows in an equal mix of disbelief and amusement at the bluntness.

“Sure am.” Kara shrugged and put the picture back between the books. “I’m never going to have to spot your rent or argue with you about inconsequential amounts of money.” She sighed and turned back to her prim boss.

Kara stepped forward closer, her fingers slipping around Lena’s wrists. The older woman’s eyes twinkled slightly, and Kara thanked every star she could make out in those emerald seas that Lena had let her brows thicken up over the last two decades. Still, she couldn’t believe women used to pluck them so thin in the 90s. She couldn’t believe half the stuff from way back then. Smoking in restaurants, smoking in the office, smoking _anywhere_ that wasn’t the freezing step of a late-night bar, what a weird concept. Kara just shook her head and looked at Lena, then looked at her a bit more for good measure.

“I’m never going to wake up scared because you went out with your stupid friends and didn’t come home. You don’t use internet meme slang. You know adult things, like how to do taxes, how to parallel park, how investments work. You’re this badass accomplished woman and also your little frown lines turn me on. So, please don’t ask me to join in on your pity parade, Mommy,” Kara whispered with a low, quiet whisper. “I like that you’re forty. I like you exactly as you are in this moment, not twenty years ago.”

“Well, I guess that’s just gucci—”

“Don’t you dare.” Kara snatched her hands back and felt her eyes snap wide.

“What? That little monologue _slapped_.” Lena grinned with a wicked sense of humour. “You don’t like that I know Gen-Z slang?”

“Oh dear god.” Kara shuddered.

“Ok, boomer.” Lena barely stifled a snort.

“You think you’re hysterical.”

“You hate to see it.” Lena shrugged and shirked an eyebrow. “Anyway, enough with the pep talks. As grateful as I am for your reassurances…” Lena suddenly became Mommy, her voice brimming and stuffed with authority. She leaned in and grabbed Kara’s wrist tight, and the intoxicating waft of oud and rose nearly sent the little one weak at the knees. “I like me exactly as I am, too. I don’t need your approval or anyone else’s for that matter. Now, come along, your only responsibility tonight is to keep my bed warm and so far your work leaves room for improvement.”

“Yes Mommy,” Kara simpered.

The bed became a carefully fought treaty of blankets and pillows. This one trapped between Kara’s thighs, that one wrangled and woven between their feet and toes. A pillow wedged between Kara’s cheek and Lena’s hip, with a duvet slung over them for good measure too. It was positively roasting, and yet Kara couldn’t stop herself wriggling and nuzzling and clinging to the other body. Lena was being Mommy, a damn good one too, quiet and up in the pillows, fingers tracing over the marabou feathers on Kara’s sleeve. Wordless, gentle, doing little more than breathing and yet somehow the only authority in the known universe.

“Ah ah,” Lena whispered and slipped a firm grip around a wandering hand pushing down her belly. “Be a good girl, just for once.” She nodded to the Disney movie that Kara had insisted on and then decided fifteen minutes in that she wasn’t all that taken with.

“But I want to make you feel good,” Kara humphed slightly.

She did and she didn’t. Of course, she wanted Lena to feel good. Of course, the little submissive part of her brain craved to make her Mommy happy. But Lena’s skin was there, for the first time, just begging to be touched and danced over. Hip bones, soft pale thighs, a gorgeous soft bit of flesh beneath the faint outline of four abs, and a patch of dark pubic hair that was waxed and trimmed into a neat and manicured triangle. Kara wanted to kiss and peck and gobble all of it. Every last tiny bit of it until her Mommy was nothing more than a few crumbs and a piece of crust.

“Hmm.” Lena huffed a breath and craned down, her lips tracing over the back of Kara’s ear. “For a baby girl who has not done this before you’re awfully curious…”

“Not done this before?” Kara snorted. 

The restaurant, Kara suddenly remembered the restaurant and grew sober and quiet.

“Of course I haven’t done this before,” she lied and shyly mumbled into Lena’s bare belly. “Will you be gentle and show me, Mommy?” Kara felt every muscle beneath her grow tight and pensive.

“Stay here.” Lena cleared her throat and juggled the baby girl off her lap, shuffling off the bed and traipsing down the little hall that lead to an en-suite and a dressing room.

Kara blinked and sat up suddenly, her eyes following the escaper until Lena turned the corner of her closet — out of sight and no doubt up to no good. She heard a drawer open, heard Lena mumbling to herself in a way that was purposeful and meant to be heard.

“Far too small. Far too small. Hmm, also far too small...” Her voice echoed with a sigh as the clattering sound of items being dropped back into the drawer punctuated her words. “Well. My my, this one would be just the right size… then again life is supposed to be full of challenges.” Another clatter into the drawer echoed and Kara instantly felt her cunt throb. “This one… now this one would certainly be just a bit too big and girthy for _my_ good girl. Still, she did say she wanted to make _me_ feel good. She’ll manage just fine, I’m sure…” Kara heard her close the drawer.

“What are you doing?” Kara licked her dry lips.

“Be a good girl and stand in the corner with your panties pulled down. I want you to be very quiet and think about all the nice things I do for you, Princess, let it make you tingle and throb in good places,” the older woman replied instantly.

Kara slipped her fingers inside of her underwear and felt the slickness, the swell of arousal, the messy flood of wetness that utterly fucking _needed_ an orgasm. Lena was already more than half way there. Kara couldn’t remember the last time she ached to be fucked so desperately. Not just fucked, but slammed, pounded until she screamed and cried, stroked, kissed, held, made to suffer, made sore, made so tired that her body melted to sleep into safe sturdy arms after wave after wave of shivering orgasms.

“Are you doing as you’re told, little mouse?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Kara hurried off the bed and kicked her silky pyjama bottoms off.

Truth be told, Kara liked being in the corner. She suspected Lena ascertained as much. It didn’t have to necessarily be as punishment — it was merely one of the things that triggered the soft little submissive feelings that made her putty. In the corner of any room, that was where Kara did her best thinking, where the calm washed over her, where the world suddenly made sense. Between the join of two walls was where her body surrendered and she allowed herself to exist for and because of someone else. Kara leaned forward until her nose met smoothness, a slight draft moving over her bare bottom and cunt, she was beyond aroused and eager for this little game.

“There’s my good girl,” Lena came back with a whisper. “Such a drippy little mess between your legs, Kara, I can see it from here.”

“S-Sorry, Mommy.” Kara played along as though she were shy and embarrassed, but inside she was a tempest turning inside out — aroused and at somebody else’s whim as to whether anything would be done about it.

“Don’t say sorry, it’s okay.” Lena kissed the back of her neck. “Reach down and show me how you touch yourself after a long day of being my good girl in the office. Show me how you make your cunt feel good.”

“Mommy I want you to—”

“Ah ah,” Lena interrupted sternly. “Do as you’re told.”

“But Mommy—”

“Rub your messy little swollen cunt before I spank it sore, Kara.” The growled words made Kara gasp and nod.

“Yes Ma’am,” she whispered and did as she was told.

Kara slipped fingers through her wetness and brushed over her lips, tracing them gently, her chest tightening with a little moan as she felt Lena’s warm breath on the back of her thigh. Her Mommy had crouched down, watching attentively as Kara’s fingers softly pushed and pressed over the hood of her clit. More than anything she had ever wanted in her life, Kara yearned to be slammed and pressed against the corner by the back of her spread thighs while Mommy kissed and licked and sucked her cunt twitchy and sore.

But Lena just watched and breathed.

“Push inside and tell me how it feels, little mouse.” 

Kara felt warm fingers reach between her legs and gently spread her cunt, a fingertip barely tracing around her opening in the process. Kara slowly pushed her middle finger to the first knuckle and made sure to give Lena her money’s worth. She was slick, insatiable, ready for an onslaught and nowhere near content with just the one — but she knew what Lena wanted, and so she played along.

“It’s tight…” Kara exaggerated with a nervous little huff and curled her fingertip into her g-spot.

“Here.” Lena guided Kara’s hand and pressed it deeper until her second knuckle met her opening, a fast sharp breath tumbling out of the precocious one. “There we go, just like that, such a dirty eager little thing…” Lena kissed the back of her thigh.

“You’re wearing a strap-on?”

“Astute as always, bunny. Here, let me help—” Fingers gently traced and rubbed the hood of her clit, and Kara wanted to buckle right then and there. “You want to be a good girl and let me do to you what the spring does to cherries?”

“I’ve heard worse come-ons, Mommy.” Kara smirked.

If she was expecting a little witty back and forth like usual, then she was mistaken. There was a sharp hard slap to her bottom, enough to make her yelp, to take her breath away, to no doubt hurt Lena’s palm too, but she said and did nothing to let on. A hand found a fistful of blonde hair and pulled until Kara was stumbling and following the yank of her scalp towards the bed, clambering and crawling up the sheets towards the pillows. Lena piled on top of her.

“Oh Mommy—” Kara sobbed into the pillow clutched under her chest. “Ah-oh Mommy! Please, slow down—”

“Shh-shh, you’re okay, there we go, nice and slow.” Lena pushed her hips slowly as though it were a first exploration, and truth be told it may as well have been. Kara was woefully unprepared if she thought the big boss was going to select a strap-on that would be too easily accommodated, it felt like a solid seven inches plus change. “Good. There’s a good girl,” Lena huffed and forced the last fat inch inside the toe-curler.

“Mommy!” Kara almost squealed as Lena’s weight shoved them both forward, the dildo finding deeper spots to nestle in her gleaming tight cunt.

Like a thief in the night, Lena took her quickly and all at once while Kara wasn’t even looking. The headboard rocked forward in small jumps, and Kara’s whimpers were never more than a split-second behind. She fluttered her eyes and gasped a quiet nose, full and throbbing and desperate to be desecrated like a pristine little toy that had been sat on the shelf for far too long.

“Breathe, it’s okay. I know it’s big,” Lena nipped the top of her ear. “Let your cunt muscles relax, let me do all the work. There we go.” The crybaby's spine softened and slumped under her soft breasts. "There we go, good girl, you're being _such_ a good girl."

“Please take it out," Kara whimpered quietly, and she didn’t mean a word of it — not even a tiny bit. Lena just nipped her ear again and growled.

“If I take it out of your vagina, it goes inside your bottom instead.” There was no sternness or force to her voice, merely a soft and authoritative tone to be swaddled in. “Are you sure you want a cock this thick in your bottom?” Lena began to slowly pull out.

“No-no-no please!” Kara snatched at the older woman’s wrists and kept her close. “Okay, okay, just—please? Not my bottom. I'll be a good girl."

Lena smiled and pecked the top of her ear.

"That's what I like to hear," Lena gave a slow, solid thrust.

When Lena’s hips met her bottom, that was when stars nearly appeared in her eyes — entire constellations that could be mapped and observed and wandered through. Kara moaned and panted, her hips pushing back slowly to meet her thrusts with their skin and bones kissing in the middle. Kara fluttered her eyes open and grabbed the wrist on her hip, holding it, thumb pressing and rubbing.

“Beautiful girl,” Lena hummed, entwining her fingers. “My pretty little thing.” She slumped and laid on top of Kara’s spine.

“All yours, Mommy.” Kara groaned and opened her thighs a little wider.

“Not even a little bit left for Veronica Sinclair?” Kara felt the jealous one grin into her gleaming shoulder.

“Not even a crumb left over, Mommy.”

“Keep talking like that and we might have to get you a new car,” Lena chuckled slightly and lost her breath to thrusts. “Reach down and rub your clit slowly, be gentle and greedy with yourself little bunny.”

“A convertible, Mommy?” Kara bit her bottom lip, hopeful and near the edge of her sensibilities.

“A convertible?” Lena sounded amused.

“You said a new car. Soft top, something fast and flashy—” Kara panted and lost her track of thought as two firm hands pulled her hips back into the big boss’s cock.

“No bunny,” Lena nipped the top of her ear, disagreeing. “Something with a high safety rating, reliable, power steering. God forbid anything bad ever happened because my little girl got _too_ excitable…” She circled Kara’s clit faster.

“Please, Mommy? I’d do anything—oh my god!” Kara clenched her eyes and nearly exploded as the tip of a thumb pushed into her asshole.

“What would you do for a Lexus?” Lena laughed slightly.

“Anal.”

“Try again.”

“Fisting?”

Lena hummed to herself for a moment, “No. You’ll give that up anyway — we both know you’re a little size queen.” She pecked the back of her neck and thrusted with torturously slow pushes and pulls.

“Tell me what you want, Mommy.” Kara gasped and clutched the woman on top of her spine. “Anything, anything you want.”

“No orgasms for another month?” Lena nibbled her shoulder, and Kara scoffed before she’d even finished speaking.

“But I haven’t even had one orgasm yet?” Kara furrowed her brow in disbelief.

“An orgasm or a Lexus. It’s your call, no one is forcing either or.”

“A Ferrari?” Kara dug in and clung on to the cliff’s edge she was dangling from. “A convertible red Ferrari.”

“Did I ever tell you the first lesbian I ever dated drove a red Ferrari?” Lena reminisced and pushed her thumb deeper inside Kara’s tight, twitching butt. “My college professor, Dorothy. She was older than me… _a lot older than me_. I don’t think about her much anymore but when I do? It’s always the filthy things I did to her in that Ferrari…” Lena laughed slightly and caught her breath.

“You could do filthy things to me in my Ferrari, Mommy?” Kara whimpered and pushed herself against Lena harder.

“Ha, it wouldn’t be the same. Your Ferrari, Princess, would in fact be _my_ Ferrari.”

“Then it can be your Ferrari, Mommy. The one that… you know…” Kara mumbled and tried desperately not to cum. “The one that I drive everywhere and pay the insurance on.”

“You really want a Ferrari that bad, huh?”

Kara weighed it up in her head, to orgasm or to have the Ferrari, and it was a close damn call. Too close for the sugar baby to rationalise as logical.

“I do, I want the Ferrari,” she held firm, whimpering and clinging to the bed sheets.

“No orgasms for another month. And, I want you to get your clit pierced… a nice pretty little diamond on your hood so you know who it belong to.” Kara’s eyes snapped wide at the request, then she moaned and clenched them again as Lena smoothed and rubbed the top of her cunt. “You sure you want the shiny red Ferrari? I can always make you cum and then we can go to the Honda dealership tomorrow?”

Kara inhaled and thought about it, and it didn’t go amiss upon her that she could afford her own Ferrari. Twenty-thousand dollars a month was a lot to play with — especially when Lena found ways to near enough pay for everything else. But this game of negotiations that they were becoming so expert and frequent in… it aroused Kara beyond words; beyond what was was professional, certainly. The thought of a clit piercing between her legs, rubbing her panties, shiny and smooth beneath her fingers, there if only because Mommy said it should be, it was hot and it was dirty beyond words.

“Yes! Fuck, yes, okay. I’ll do it Mommy—” Kara gasped as the cock was instantly withdrawn.

“You become more and more impressive with each passing day, Kara Danvers,” Lena sounded so sincere and proud, it almost made the maddening craving for an orgasm bearable. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed, bunny.” Her soft arms snuggled and held the breathing body beneath her for a moment.

“Fuck, why did I do that?” Kara murmured with a whine.

“Because you, Kara Danvers, always have your eyes on the prize. I like that about you.” Lena chuckled and kissed the nape of her neck. “You’re going to look so pretty with a gleaming little diamond between your legs, right where _I say_ it goes.” The words made Kara wetter than she knew possible.

Kara sighed and nodded, then nodded again. She tucked her chin on the pale warm forearm and snuggled backwards into Lena’s hips.

“We’ll talk about it again in the morning and see how you feel about it when you’re not fuck-drunk.” Lena kissed her palm, her voice barely a whisper. “Then we’ll talk about it again in a week, just to make sure it’s something you’re definitely comfortable with.”

“Thanks Mommy,” Kara smiled, genuine and unforced and happy and content, and yes, okay, still slightly remorseful because she was utterly ravenous beyond words for that orgasm. 

Still, a Ferrari was a Ferrari.

“Can I ask you a question?” Kara turned in Lena’s arms, her fingers smoothing over that defined jaw until it broke with a little smile.

“Sure,” Lena’s eyes wrinkled, obliging.

“Is this becoming more than just a transactional thing for you?”

“No baby.”

“I wouldn’t be mad if it was, I’m just asking.”

“And I’m saying no — it’s _very much_ transactional,” Lena was soft in how she said it, but Kara could tell she was being honest. “Look. I… I don’t have time for a family, or a happy ending, or any of that stuff. We’re not those people and we’re never going to be.” She pressed her palm to Kara’s cheek, then swept her fingertips over her smooth brow. “Would you be here if I lost all my money?” She lifted her brows.

“Y—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Alright,” Kara sighed and felt guilty. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“And that’s okay,” Lena reassured, unbothered about it. “There’s no pretense or deceit to this. We’re consenting adults, we know what our thing is, and _I like_ what our thing is. So yes, this is and always will be transactional. You’re never going to be Mrs Luthor, Kara, because that isn’t what I want for myself.”

“I can live with that.”

“You’re getting a luxury sports car, I should hope so.”

“And you’re getting a pierced clit and thirty days of psychological torture. This is transactional, remember?”

Lena just smiled and rubbed the top of her chest, conceding the point in the only way a woman like Lena was ever capable of conceding: silently. Kara didn’t mind, she just shook her head and leaned in and pecked her lips. Then again, one more after that too for good measure.

“For what it’s worth Kara,” Lena inhaled and sighed. “Well, I’ve spent my money in good company.”

“You have.” Kara patted the ball of her shoulder and slipped fingers down her creamy skin, her eyes growing wide and her cheeks puffing out. “Just because I can’t cum though… that shouldn’t mean that you—”

“Nice try.” Lena flicked the wandering fingers. “Come on, shower and bed, now please bunny.” She glanced to her en-suite.

“Okay Mommy,” Kara rolled her eyes and took the older woman’s hand.

[Find more bible tabernacle study group and vanilla cis man tears HERE!](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

Kara stretched slightly as she polished the glass shelves, shifting her hips and bottom. The Saturday morning office was quiet and empty save for them, a perfect excuse for a ball-gagged personal secretary wearing nothing but her heels if ever there was one. Lena almost missed the sound of her bratty whining, but the gleaming little piercing on her hood provided quite the distraction. That and the coffee, Kara had managed to get it right this morning — a small victory if ever there was one.

“Miss Danvers?”

“Ye-th?” Kara turned around.

Lena stifled a laugh and beckoned her over, “Well let’s remove the ball-gag — just for the sake of efficiency at least.” She smirked and stroked the head that instantly craned down into her lap.

The little one opened her jaw, wiggling it to loosen the stiff muscles as the gag came out of her bite. Lena watched her smile, watched her blue eyes grow wide and puppy-like as she peered up. It had her heart in a clutch and her sensibilities hanging by a thread, because goodness, what a sight that would be to wake up to every morning. It was impractical of course, this thing could never and would never be anything more than it already is. For a moment, Lena allowed herself the childish little fantasy though. A Saturday morning with her adoring little babygirl making lovey-dovey expressions from her belly, pancakes for breakfast and nowhere important to be.

“Miss Luthor, how can I be of service?” Kara whispered.

“Sorry, Miss Danvers.” Lena shook her head and remembered herself. “I was… wondering if you would like tonight to be a dinner date? We haven’t had one this month and I want to take you somewhere special. Very, very special.”

Kara’s eyebrows furrowed as if it were the most obvious answer in the entire world. She craned her neck and pecked the palm near her cheek, then again just for good measure.

“Duh,” she whispered.

“Excuse me? Do you want to try that again?”

“Yes please Miss Luthor, it’s been busy around here lately and I think we’ve earned a dinner,” Kara fixed her tone into something faintly cordial and professional.

“Good girl.” Lena softened and glanced to the open diary on her computer. “Huh… would you look at that,” she whispered to herself.

“What is it, Miss Luthor?”

“Do you have a passport, Kara?” 

“I do.”

“Excellent.”

“Why did you just ask that, Ma’am?”

“Because it would seem you and I have the first three days of next week booked off work… have you ever been to Dubai?” Lena stiffened the corners of her lips and enjoyed the sight of her giddy little puppy.

“Dubai?” Kara’s eyes grew wide. “Did you just… are we… Dubai? You mean the country—’

“I’ll take that as a no then.” Lena turned back to her computer screen and clicked the first class check-in page. The trip had been booked a fortnight ago, not that she was about to tell Kara that. “Told you it was going to be a special dinner,” she whispered beneath her breath.

***

She’s the kind of woman that when she walks into a room everyone stands up even if they’re not quite sure why. That is how Kara would describe Lena; charismatic, electric, powerful and everybody knew it even if they didn’t know _her_. 

The sunset barely cooled the desert, the open dining area from the 32nd floor of the Burj was bustling with waiters, sheikhs eating their third and fourth courses, everyone politely glancing to the most powerful woman in the restaurant sipping her drink under the linen canopy, and if the sky had fallen down on top of them right then and there, Kara wouldn’t have noticed. 

Dubai be damned, there was nothing but Lena.

“Do you like the view?” Lena smiled.

Kara didn’t tear her eyes away from Mommy for a single second. “I love the view,” she whispered, matter of fact.

“But you’re not looking—”

“I _love_ the view,” Kara repeated and leaned forward over her plate, and much to her delight Lena beamed that radiantly bright smile.

“Discretion is key, Miss Danvers,” Lena dropped her voice to a whisper. “The Emirates is a very stuffy place hence the lack of wine. We could get into a lot of trouble if someone overhears…”

“Thank you. For all of this, for the restaurant, for the trip, for the… wonderfulness of it all.” Kara leaned back and gave Mommy the puppy dog eyes. “But just this once can we skip dinner and go back to the room?”

“Well you have been a very good girl when all is said and done... I suppose _just_ this once.” Lena delicately lifted her hand for the bill.

Surprise trips to the far flung corners of the globe were not a thing that happened — not in real life. They were the stuff of terrible romance novels, dirty erotica, and maybe for the 1% of the 1%, maybe, but certainly not for the likes of Kara Danvers. Until Lena Luthor said so, that is. Kara wanted to reach out and hold her hand as they walked back through the restaurant, wanted to graze her pinky finger and link into it with giddiness as they made their way to the elevator, but she was not allowed and somehow that made the prospect of touching Lena in privacy all the more thrilling.

“You looked so beautiful tonight,” Kara whispered as they waited for the elevator doors.

“I know,” Lena smiled and didn’t so much as move a single hair, totally self-assured.

She was wearing the kind of dress that would make for stern words in a place like this if she was anyone other than Lena Luthor. It was an off the shoulder bardot gown, black silk that had been carefully tailored to the waist and hips like water gliding and accentuating every inch of her. 

And if Kara was supposed to want to rip it off of her in a passionate frenzy, then what she actually wanted to do was the exact opposite. Kara simply craved to unzip her at the back, to gently slip the short bardot sleeves down the rest of her alabaster arms, to carefully remove the silk dress and kiss a tiny pilgrimage around her hips, to work slowly and methodically as though her one responsibility was to keep the dress and the memory of Lena wearing it utterly pristine.

“Can I ask you a question, Miss Danvers?” Lena spoke as the elevator began too move.

“Yes?” Kara stood about as close to her as one woman could without actually touching.

“Have you been a good girl this month?” 

Kara knew exactly what Lena was asking — whether she had masturbated or kept her promise.

“I’ve been a good girl, Mommy,” Kara used that special word now they were finally alone. 

Lena pursed her red lips into a smile and nodded, satisfied by the answer. When the elevator doors opened to their private suite she stepped off first and Kara trailed her like a little mouse. The red bottom high heels were kicked off one at a time, and Kara picked them up dutifully along with the clutch and the costume jewellery. 

Lena wasn’t rude in the way she did it, and she certainly wouldn’t have thought to say anything if Kara didn’t pick up after her, but the little one was learning that service submission was a thing she very much liked indeed. Kara enjoyed being useful, and she liked taking care of Lena in what little ways she could — picking up after her proved to be one of them. So she traipsed after the big boss and headed for the bedroom to put each bit of the clutter away neatly while Lena wrestled with the balcony doors.

Kara’s phone suddenly rang from the coffee table.

“Mommy will you grab it for me?” Kara called out into the hall from the bedroom.

“It’s your sister?” Lena shouted back.

“Shit.” Kara closed her eyes and remembered the plans she had before this whirlwind. “Don’t ans—”

“Hello, Lena Luthor speaking.” Kara heard the words uttered and moved like a lightning strike to get to the phone.

Lena was stood in the living room with an amused expression on her face, nodding her head, scratching her temple, wincing as though Alex was giving her the telling off of the century. Kara stood there like a deer in headlights, but Lena just shot her that reassuring look that was utterly… _Mommy_.

“Your sister is here I’ll pass you over,” Lena said calmly and then hesitated. “Erm, sure. That… that is a thing I can do.”

“Do what?” Kara mouthed.

“Here’s your sister.” Lena pushed the phone into Kara’s hands.

“Do what?” Kara covered the receiver and asked again.

“Talk to your sister,” Lena nodded emphatically.

“Hello?” Kara answered.

“Board game night. We promised, no excuses, we would never ever miss board game night. Imagine my surprise—”

“Is sorry a good place to start?”

“You don’t get to blow me off just because you’re loved-up with Christian Grey!” Alex barked. “I have scrabble, I have monopoly, I have an open bottle of wine and I am not putting it back in the fridge so you better figure it out and—”

“I’m in Dubai, Alex.”

“Dubai?” Alex grew quiet. “As in? As in…”

“As in Dubai,” Kara confirmed.

“She took you to Dubai?”

“I’m sorry, it’s been a whirlwind and I am still jet-lagged and I should have called and I’m a terrible sister — I know all of this.” Kara rubbed her head.

“Well we’re going to have to rethink board game night that’s for sure,” Alex sighed. “Next week?”

“That works.”

“Well unless she takes you to the fucking Kingdom of Bhutan that is,” Alex mumbled.

“Won’t work, she has a dentist appointment next week and she can’t reschedule.” Kara smirked. “I’ll call you when I’m home? Next week is a definite, I promise.”

“Okay well… go do whatever it is you do when I’m not around to scold. I love you, be safe.”

“You too,” Kara hung up and put the phone back on the coffee table. “And you—” She lifted an accusing finger, but her tone was playful and amused. “What did my sister say to you?”

“Oh, you know.” Lena shrugged and pushed out her cheeks. “Just that I have to bring the snacks for board game night. Good ones, she said. Something about chocolate pretzels?” She lifted a brow.

“Alex invited you to board game night?” Kara balked.

“Is that a terribly bad thing?”

“Absolute not.” Kara shook her head and her legs moved toward the coffee table the big boss had perched herself on. “I just… assumed you wouldn’t be comfortable with that kind of thing?”

“I’m not particularly comfortable with it,” Lena smiled softly, and in that perfectly Lena kind of way of saying exactly what she meant, Kara didn’t feel offended in the slightest. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to turn up with chocolate pretzels.” She shrugged.

Kara idly danced her fingers across her Mommy’s collarbones. “However will I make it up to my generous, thoughtful, sweet, kind, perfect—”

“Alright, alright,” Lena chuckled and pulled away. “Well I think a certain amount of discomfort begets a certain amount of discomfort… don’t you, princess?” Her eyes twinkled.

***

Her wrists were tied with yellow ribbon, secured to the headboard in such a way that if she flexed against the silky smooth bondage with too much force then her wrists instantly throbbed as though they were bound with zip-ties instead. 

Mommy stood over her with a wicked smile, drenched in moonlight, silky dressing gown hanging off her alabaster shoulders and left open and untied at the waist - which provided Kara with quite the view of the lingerie set Mommy had selected. It was expensive, no doubt, but it was not costumey. The black silk cups pushed her breasts into a full ample beneath her decolletage, and the matching underwear was a high cut that accentuated the perfect dips of her waist. Lena Luthor had never looked more powerful than she did in this moment, Kara thought, and she was being quite benevolent about it too.

“Such a pretty, polite, _well behaved_ little pet tonight…” Mommy traced a feather every which way across Kara’s hips. “I grow ever impressed with your sense of patience, little girl, it has to be said.” 

The feather idly traced along Kara’s straining, desperate cunt, the tip of it brought back up and over the tiny jewelled piercing that served to remind who she was owned by now. Kara trembled and wanted to beg for more substantial attention, however the panties stuffed inside her mouth prevented such requests.

“Perhaps you have been patient enough…” Lena hummed and placed the feather down on the bedside table.

Kara watched with heavy-lidded eyes, her skin glistening with sweat, body trembling and pushing up in search of… absolutely anything that could provide relief. She couldn’t remember the last time she had an orgasm. It was both a maddening punishment, and a feat of submission and patience that she felt a large sense of pride about. Then Mommy peered down with that smouldering stare and climbed on the bed between her legs… and Kara felt as though she were already near the praecipe of one. A little push, that’s all it would take. Kara breathed and whimpered as two fingers pushed through her slick, wet mess.

“Is that what all those big whimpers were over?” Mommy beamed a wicked grin as the troublemaker’s eyes rolled into the back of her skull. 

Lena curled inside of her cunt gently, stroking her g-spot with the pads of her fingers, her mouth craning down to press kisses into the nook of Kara’s neck. It was more gentle than Kara knew she could be, and as though it were an illusion, perhaps a magic trick, a thing that could only suspend reality on a brief basis, Kara whimpered and felt as though she were on borrowed time.

“Shh, you’re okay.” Lena pulled the panties out of her mouth and captured her lips in a hard kiss. “No more of that, I’ve got you now.”

She smelled and tasted like good, eye-wateringly expensive skincare, her lips plump, face moisturised, the scent of rosehip oil and cucumber clinging slightly to her cheeks. Kara almost made a sex game of watching Mommy get ready for bed every time there was a sleepover, the night creams, the expensive moisturiser, the rosewater misting spray, there was something so sultry and glamorous about it all. Kara’s own routine was far less high maintenance... make up remover, face wash, and the job was done. Lena though... she somehow made her extensive evening routine a form of foreplay.

Kara wanted to grab her cheeks and leverage the kisses, prolong them, deepen them, push her tongue inside and moan into Mommy’s mouth while she came all over her fingers, crying some semblance of an apology afterwards. She knew what turned Lena on, gentle humiliation, embarrassment, sluttiness, helplessness, whether Lena admitted it or not, she was quite the emotional sadist.

“Mommy I need to come,” Kara whispered and pushed her hips down, pierced clit grinding into Lena’s palm as she chased after an orgasm.

“Are you asking or are you demanding?” Lena lifted a stern brow.

“Asking Mommy,” Kara pouted and whimpered. “Please, please, fuck, _please_.”

Lena smiled again but not quite as wide this time. She pulled back and slapped the puffy wet slit between Kara’s legs hard enough to make the troublemaker cry out and clench her thighs. Lena pried them apart forcefully, burying her waist between them so they couldn’t completely close again. Her mouth found Kara’s nipples, sucking and biting and kissing them in a polite frenzy.

“C’mere, put your ankles over my shoulders,” Mommy growled and gave her a helping hand. “That’s it, good girl, there’s a good girl…” She pushed her fingers back inside Kara’s cunt with a deep thrust.

It took the air of Kara’s chest. In this position, knees folded back into her chest, Lena compressing and pushing down into her, there was no escape or kicking away. She didn’t want to escape, she wouldn’t dream of it, Mommy was fucking her so deep that the sloppy noises were obscene, and so she had very little reason to want to be anywhere else. The sense of physical restraint added to her arousal, the feeling that Lena was so much stronger and in control, and if that wasn’t enough it felt as though the older woman knew exactly how to touch her as though she had been given all the cheat codes. 

“If you come without permission…” Lena shook her head as though it would be a terrible, stupid, insane idea.

“Mommy please…” Kara cried out again as the big boss pressed a thumb against her gleaming ring, not penetrating, not circling, just constant pressure against her tightest muscles. “I’m begging you, please, let me have my own way just this once,” she stifled a moan as a head slipped down her belly and a slow idle tongue found her clitoris.

“Just this once, huh?” Lena chuckled slightly into her folds. 

“Just this once, Mommy,” Kara promised with a stuttered moan and did her best not to tumble over the edge of herself.

Lena just toyed with her as though Kara were a thing to amuse herself with; sadistically gentle, torturously perfect, her open mouth pressing kisses, her tongue moving slowly, her lips sucking and releasing her clitoris in alternating pressures. To compound the impossibility of holding on for much longer, the fingers inside both her holes twisted and fucked in a perfect synchronisation. When the big boss noticed the small hands clenching the sheets, the neck taut and thrown back, that was when she offered her mercy.

“You can have your way baby,” Lena whispered and gave the little troublemaker exactly what she craved. “Take it all, take everything you want princess.”

Kara’s body grew tight and overwhelmed. Normally, her orgasms were private and quiet affairs; a brief inward experience that consumed her body and left her floating and mindless, almost. This… was not that. She gasped and felt her lungs refuse air, her entire body shuddering, her whole existence seemingly entwined in Mommy’s ivory fingers, that was how it felt. 

The pressure built to new heights that left her sweating, writhing body barely able to be held to the sheets, although Mommy persevered and did just that. Kara felt strong arms slip around her thighs so, so tight, and then palms settle on her belly and clutch her close while that perfect tongue licked, sucked, swept and stirred an entire torrent inside of her.

“Mommy I’m not—I’m not done—” Kara bucked and lost her breath, eyes cracked wide and dripping tears, her body curled forward as the second wave, and then the third consumed her.

“You don’t have to be done, crybaby,” Mommy whispered and pushed her fingers back inside of slick cunt hard and fast. “You’re not done until _I say_ you’re done. You’re going to please me tonight, little girl, and you’ll do it on _my_ terms.” Kara snapped her eyes open and felt another orgasm devour her whole.

Mommy was going to let her touch her for the first time, Kara realised, and suddenly she didn’t feel so exhausted anymore.

[Click HERE if you want to see me accidentally summon a glitter breathing dragon through the medium of dance](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

It took a single moment for daylight to crack over the desert horizon, or at least it felt that way. One moment it was dark, cool, their bodies colliding into the heat of the other. The next it was dawn, and the shape of Mommy’s body could be seen as well as felt shifting beneath Kara’s fluttering tongue. They weren’t finished, not even close, and Kara intended on savouring every moment regardless.

“There!” Lena’s fingers grew tight in the back of her scalp. “Don’t you— _oh god_. Don’t you stop!” Her hips rolled and snapped.

There was no follow up, Kara merely grabbed her hips and held on for dear life — kissing, licking, sucking, devouring the shuddering woman beneath her as though she were a three course meal plus dessert, never stopping for a moment. 

Lena tasted perfect, just like Kara imagined she would, her glistening cunt sweet and only growing slicker every time Kara kissed her there, sucked her clit, pressed the pads of her fingers against that spot deep inside that made her buck. When Mommy came like a grand finale, crying out loud and fisting the sheets, Kara’s body grew slack at the same precise moment as though her job were complete.

“Good girl,” Lena panted and laughed. “Such a good, good girl.” Her thumb swiped the wetness from the corner of Kara’s mouth as the little one crawled up her body for kisses.

“I’m not finished with you,” Kara husked and pecked her jaw.

“Yeah you are,” Lena smirked and patted her shoulder. “It’s daybreak and I’m tired—”

“I can fix that Mommy,” Kara promised, pressing her slick cunt into the top of Lena’s thigh as though it were a match to gasoline.

“You’re such a dirty fucking bitch,” Mommy’s eyes rolled into the back of her skull as she felt the mess, the heat, the eagerness for more.

Lena grabbed her by the back of the hair and switched their positions. She buried Kara on her spine as though it were a controlled demolition, swung her leg over and straddled her hips, a hand grabbing the crybaby’s throat while other reached behind and dipped down between her tiny wet lips.

“Mommy!” Kara’s eyes grew wide and desperate for another orgasm as the big boss softly stroked the hood of her clit.

It had never been difficult for Kara to orgasm and she knew that about herself. She was innately sexual in a way that couldn’t be reduced to the youth of her early-twenties. Mommy had made her wait for what felt like a thousand years, but tonight she had been generous, made her cum more times than the crybaby felt she could accurately count, and still she wasn’t done, nowhere even close. 

The way Lena touched her, held her, _fucked her_ , it was the work of a woman ruthlessly determined to ruin and own her little girl — and Kara was merely along for the ride, embarrassed by her own quickness, disconnected from a reality that ended the moment Mommy touched her.

“Tell me a fantasy you’ve never told anyone before,” Lena’s voice rasped, throaty and growling. 

She circled Kara’s clit slowly, pressing the piercing, dipping down and tracing, waiting out the crybaby while she relearned how to form words.

“I… I don’t know if I have one—”

“Don’t lie to me, little girl.” Mommy grinded her hips down and used Kara for leverage against her own arousal. “No woman is an open book.”

“Mommy—” Kara closed her eyes and slipped her hands up and over Lena’s shoulders. “I don’t want to say in case you don’t like it,” she exhaled hard, her cunt rewarded with quicker strokes as though they were getting somewhere.

“Good, if you’re worried then that means it’s probably filthy and disgusting… just like you.” Mommy hissed and slipped her fingers inside the slick little cunt twitching beneath her.

“I like the thought of you embarrassing me at work,” Kara’s voice became low and tight, her eyes fluttering closed. “If you made me sit in one of your meetings and edged me, or told me off in front of someone, something like that,” Kara gasped as Mommy slipped a third finger inside.

“What an interesting proposition,” Lena growled next to her ear, capturing the top between her teeth, kissing her there, pecking her jaw, fingering through the wet mess at her palm. “Maybe I would have to use you in front of someone just to put you back in your place… maybe I would let them touch you too…”

“Oh fuck!” Kara rolled her hips and grew closer just imagining it. “I… I would be okay with that, Mommy, if you wanted to, I mean—”

“Mhm,” Lena smirked and knew as much. “How close are you princess? You’re getting so tight and clingy on my fingers…”

“I’m close.” Kara nodded frantically. A moment later, she was gasping and lurching forward, eyes cracked wide. “No, no, please—” Kara tried to follow the fingers slipping out of her cunt.

“It’s bed time, princess.” Lena leaned down and pecked her neck. “I told you, I’m tired and it’s already daylight. You can be a good girl, right?” A gleaming smile hovered over Kara’s devastated expression.

“Yes Mommy,” Kara huffed with disappointment.

“Try not to be too sad,” Lena rolled over and grabbed the blankets skewed at the bottom of the bed. “I have a meeting with Veronica Sinclair the first week of June to go over a venture capital proposition. You wouldn’t mind… _sitting in_ , would you?”

Kara paused and thought about it. In the logical part of her brain, the bit of her that understood this was transactional and her services were professional, she knew it was unacceptable. Veronica had been a client, and spiting her unnecessarily was not the machinations of a girl who took pride in her customer service. The rest of her was a different story. Kara imagined Lena’s wolfish posturing, her wicked smirk, her long crimson nails slipping under her skirt and lifting the hem for Veronica to see whatever Mommy had decided to stuff up her bottom.

It was humiliating, it was whorish, and Kara wanted it desperately.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Lena whispered softly, her palm slipping and pressing over her baby girl’s stomach. “I want you to feel good about our arrangement, you’re not a little toy for me to loan out.”

“I want it,” Kara blushed and barely got the words out.

“Good.” Lena kissed her temple and nuzzled a bit closer. “Go to sleep, if we’re up before noon we can go sight seeing and get lunch.”

“And if we’re not up before noon?” Kara trailed her fingers along Lena’s forearm back and forth, smiling lazily with her own suspicions.

“Well.” Lena puffed out her cheeks. “We’ll order room service, and I’ll eat horderves off your spine and catch some afternoon sun while you kneel naked like a little coffee table beside me.” Her tone gave nothing away.

Kara giggled and then grew quiet for a moment, breathless with this new wonderful state of things that had crept up out of nowhere — profoundly erotic, profoundly reassuring in nature, all of it on top of the other. 

Lena was unlike any sugar daddy who had came before, and at first that was put down to her sex, that her womanhood somehow made her precise and distinctly different from her male counterparts. It wasn’t that, Kara decided. It was something innate to Lena Luthor. It was a combination of passion, showboating, yet never more than Lena felt like giving in the moment, and a terseness that never confused fondness for romance. 

Kara always understood perfectly where she stood with Mommy, she liked that.

***

Alex couldn’t understand any of it and that was not through lack of trying. Kara was happy, and that should be wonderful, but the circumstances were just… bizarre and inexplicable, still. The thought of being around that arrogant perverse woman, knowing the depravities that aroused her, the wealth that enabled it, the pathology that drove it, Alex couldn’t fathom anything worse than spending an evening with Lena Luthor.

“Lena, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Alex gritted her teeth and forcefully extended her hand out as though she were offering it to a lion.

The things she did for her baby sister, Alex privately cringed.

“I’ve heard so many lovely things,” Lena said and shook her hand. “You have a beautiful home.” Her eyes glanced around and gleaned in the tiny modest apartment.

It was a pleasantry, a polite lie, one that Alex didn’t appreciate. It set the stage for the measured and forced interactions they would have to share tonight for Kara’s sake. Her stomach felt like a pressure cooker, as though with one slip she might explode and tell that horrendous old woman exactly what she felt and thought.

“Thank you, remind me to give you a tour of the south and west wings after dinner.” Alex’s eyes narrowed slightly, her tone joking but pointed. It earned a fast side glance from Kara. “I’m joking,” she shrugged at her sister.

“I gathered.” Lena stared, her expression giving absolutely nothing away.

Apparently the reluctance was mutual.

[Find more HERE!](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

Veronica Sinclair wasn’t a woman who took kindly to being humiliated. Kara knew that. Their arrangement had been brief, temporary, and without procedural rules, and that had soothed her conscience in the moments after the job interview with Lena. Now, she wasn’t feeling so soothed.

Her perspective somewhat changed as the month flew by towards the kinky roleplay boardroom meeting that had been discussed and negotiated between the three of them over email. Veronica was enthusiastic about the idea. It was no surprise to Kara. It was the perfect opportunity for the scorned sugar mommy to get a little revenge and cut Kara back down to size in a way that was erotic for all parties involved. Kara wanted to be humiliated, and Veronica and Lena were primally wired for the job.

The nervousness grew now that the day was here. The fear. The realisation that she was going to be walking into a closed-door meeting with two powerful women who both understood the rigged game afoot and yet still wanted to beat each other. Lena because she was _Mommy_. Veronica because she wasn’t.

“Miss Luthor, reception called and your two o’clock has just arrived.” Kara peeped her head around the office door, glancing at the man from the legal department who was spreading contracts over the big boss’s desk. “You know…” Kara licked her lips. “The _very important_ two o’clock, Miss Luthor.”

“Considering I remain capable of deciphering a clock I’m unsure why you’re not doing your job and greeting my _very important_ two o’clock.” Lena shot a disapproving look from over the paperwork, but her tone bounced with a little bit of amusement. “I’ll be ten minutes late. Go and greet Miss Sinclair and wait for me in the boardroom, make her comfortable and send my warmest apologies for the delay.”

Mommy wasn’t sorry in the slightest — nevermind _warm_ in the endeavour. Kara inhaled and swallowed hard because this now meant a prolonged period in Veronica’s company alone. Lena Luthor was never late to business meetings, except for when it was entirely on purpose. Kara remained unsure of what her angle was. She had pin-pointed Lena as a jealous and possessive type from the get-go. Why did she want her to be alone with Veronica?

“Did I stutter, Miss Danvers?” Lena suddenly snapped.

“No Ma’am,” Kara blushed and glanced at the legal man hovering awkwardly with a set of tuned ears. “I… I just figured you wouldn’t want me around Miss Sinclair without you.” The statement hung odd and strange.

Lena scrunched her face up and stared with utter confusion. It was as though she were an entirely new woman, not a Mommy, simply just an asshole arrogant boss, one who apparently revelled in Kara’s crimson-cheeked embarrassment. The lawyer watching their little back-and-forth didn’t have context, and that meant Kara was the one who looked the incompetent fool. Kara felt herself burn crimson with humiliation—

Kara realised all of a sudden, this was very much deliberate.

Lena was completely aware of what her baby girl was trying to convey and yet she acted as though this were nothing more than an ordinary business meeting, between ordinary women, who were most certainly not caught up in any kind of sexual power dynamic with one another.

“Kara?” Lena seemed dumbfounded as she spoke.

“Yes Mo—” Kara halted and glanced at the lawyer. “Yes Miss Luthor?”

“Act like you give a damn about your job please. Preferably by going and greeting my _very important_ two o’clock who has now been sat in reception for four minutes.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Kara averted her eyes to her feet. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

***

In the reception, Veronica sat there reading an old copy of Reader’s Digest and looked nothing like Kara remembered. The thing with Veronica was that she was a peacock. The short time Kara had spent courting her as a potential sugar mommy were intentional and aesthetic on Veronica’s part. She wore the best tailored suits, the fanciest watches, fluttered cash like it was burning a hole in her pocket. Kara had no critique about it at the time — a lot of it ended up in her purse after all.

The trouble was that Veronica did those things to impress herself more than Kara, or at least that’s what Kara thought. Sugar daddies were a lot like that. Despite superficial appearances, their performative wealth and opulence was always to titillate themselves rather than any pretty woman who happened to be in the firing line of it. It was a theatre production, and they were their own front-row audience, and Kara felt that had been Veronica’s underlying gambit too. Lena was nothing like that, and it only made Mommy all the more interesting and hard to nail down.

But, the woman sat hunched over that dog-earred Reader’s Digest certainly didn’t look opulent or performative anymore.

She was wearing an oversized leather jacket, layered over a grey sweater and a little red neckerchief. Sat there in ripped jeans and combat boots like a graphics intern fresh out of college unbothered about first-impressions. Her clothes were designer and expensive, no doubt, but the overall aesthetic… she seemed like she wasn’t try to impress anyone important.

And why should she be bothered? Kara realised. It was Lena’s name above the front door of the building but Veronica was a monolith too. Her business ventures were successful enough in their own right that she had long since taken a step back from the day-to-day running of her own smaller firm. She was semi-retired for all intents and purposes. Now, she only worked when she needed to keep busy. Or, apparently when she wanted to indulge in a little power-play threesome.

“Are you ready to go upstairs?” Veronica startled her out of her ruminations. “Or is that supposed to be your line?” She pushed a cheeky, big smile.

“My line.” Kara fidgeted with her glasses as Veronica stood out of her chair. “Miss Luthor sends her apologies, she’s running ten minutes late but I have the room set-up. I’ll get you settled and grab you a coffee?”

“Sounds perfect. I’m travelling light in terms of an assistant today, would you mind getting copies of these for Lena to take a look at?” Veronica handed over a leather binder stuffed with paperwork.

“Not at all.” Kara shook her head and tucked it underneath her arm. “So there’s actual boring business for you two to go over today?” She smirked slightly.

“Something like that.” Veronica smiled and slung her bag over her shoulder, then followed Kara up the stairs. “Lena and me… our interests have always tended to overlap on bad days and align on good days. You’re quite the example of that,” she said beneath her breath.

Kara pretended not to hear. “Well, hopefully it’s a mercifully brief meeting. I checked Miss Luthor’s calendar this morning and her four o’clock has been rescheduled, so there’s no risk of you two running over.”

“A whole afternoon at her disposal?” Veronica pretended to be surprised. “How coincidental, my schedule for the rest of the day is quite empty too.”

“You mentioned your interests seem to overlap and align,” Kara dropped her voice to a cheeky, flirtatious whisper. “I’m sure you’ll find some interesting ways to occupy the time, Miss Sinclair.”

Veronica was hot. That was the bottom line. Yes, Kara had scorned her. Yes, her loyalties absolutely sat with Lena. She wasn’t entirely sure if this was some kind of proving ground, maybe Lena allowing them to have some time alone to test Kara in some way that she didn’t yet understand. But Veronica was oh so hot, and she was fun, and the time they had spent together had served its uses. Kara flirted and didn’t feel bad about it.

“I hope so, Miss Danvers.” Veronica flirted back with wicked slits for eyes and a beaming smile. “Speaking of which are you enjoying your… _new position_ here at L-Corp?” Kara understand perfectly what Veronica was getting at.

“Very much.” Kara nodded and bit her lip, thinking about how to word it correctly considering they were in public. “Miss Luthor is…”

“A very captivating and charming woman. Yes, I know that all too well.” Veronica chuckled and didn’t seem half as indignant about what had happened as Kara imagined she would be. “All I can say is that I hope her good favour isn’t the only thing your pre-occupying your attention with, Kara. You’ll be sorely disappointed in the end if that’s the case. She’s not very good at reciprocating.”

“Stop.” Kara suddenly halted in her tracks, her voice quiet and yet stern. “You know what we all agreed. We agreed to keep everything outside of roleplay respectful and polite. You are not being respectful or polite,” Kara whispered tightly.

“If I recall correctly our last private conversation was neither respectful or polite.” Veronica began walking again, slowly. “Then again, I doubt it was all that private either.” She gave Kara a knowing look.

“You’re not still butthurt over that?” Kara gawked.

“Not really. I don’t think so at least,” Veronica shrugged, and didn’t seem as though she cared all that much at all. “I just think it’s funny that...” She stopped, as though there were more she wanted to add but had thought better of it. “I just think it’s funny.”

“Think what is funny?” Kara became confused.

“That you don’t know half as much about Lena Luthor as you think you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kara furrowed her brow and grew curious. “What don’t I know?”

“Oh.” Veronica turned, her eyes wide and bright with amusement. “You’ll find out sooner rather than later, I’m very sure.”

Kara nodded at that, chewing on her back teeth and suddenly regretting that she had agreed to all of this. Well, not so much agreed as orchestrated it in the first place. What a stupid lack of foresight. Lena and Veronica did not particularly like each other, though they loved pissing the other one off. That was the rudimentary understanding Kara had about their relationship and she was about to put herself bang in the middle of it. A lack of foresight, most definitely.

“I’ll get you your coffee, Miss Sinclair.” Kara reclaimed a sense of professionalism.

“Thank you,” Veronica pushed open the door of the boardroom. “Oh, and Kara?”

“Yes Miss Sinclair?” Kara turned with a dour expression.

“Come here?” She smiled and beckoned her with a lazy nod.

Kara sighed and stepped towards her. “Yes Miss Sinclair?” She blinked and tried to be incorrigible in her polite disconnect.

“You look so beautiful in that dress,” Veronica whispered with a little grin, her eyes glancing and undressing Kara with utter lanquidity. “Does she worship your pretty ass the way I used—”

“Thank you, Miss Sinclair.” Kara choked slightly as she cleared her throat. “If that’s all, I’ll go and get your coffee.”

“Two sugars please, one for me and one for you.” Veronica winked.

***

Kara stood against the wall like a silent prop waiting to be useful. Surprisingly, it turned out there was actual business at hand for the warring sugar mommies to discuss.

Kara wondered if sugar mommies was the proper plural. Were they a pod? A flock? How many sugar mommies did she need to qualify them as a murder? A murder of mommy dommes sounded… _interesting_.

There was little else to occupy herself with for now. Lena sat on one side of the boardroom, Veronica on the other. They went back and forth over a proposal with the polite veneer of two women who would always put the job at hand before pleasure. Kara should have expected as much, but she didn’t and she wasn’t above feeling petulant about it.

Lena and Veronica had inadvertently managed to find a way to make her most private sexual desires so mundane and boring to watch that Kara... well. She had the time to weigh it up and come to some conclusions. A lick of sugar mommies sounded much better than a murder, she decided. She had been turned into a background character in her own unfurling fantasies. What else was there to do?

Apparently her actual job.

“Kara?” Lena stared at her with utter severity. “Did you even hear a _word_ of what I just said?” She seemed at a total loss.

Veronica smirked as she signed a contract laid out in front of her. “Nice to see your running a tight ship, Lena.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Kara watched her Mommy become almost imperceptibly annoyed at the quip. Her eyebrow barely twitched, her jaw flexing only slightly, but Kara could see she wasn’t happy.

“I apologise.” Kara cleared her throat and felt this was her starting whistle for the roleplay. “I… I was away with the fairies—”

“Oh we can see that.” Lena scoffed, interrupting her. “You haven’t so much as asked if we’d like refreshments. I’m still waiting for you to get this stack of signatures copied. In fact, I was waiting to pull you aside later about this, but why is it exactly you haven’t been taking minutes of the meeting?” Lena blinked with a serious, indiscernible expression.

“Oh.” Kara blinked and felt taken aback. “Well to tell you the truth I... I didn’t realise this was an actual meeting that required minute taking, Miss Luthor, I thought we were all here to—”

“You didn’t realise? Was it not abundantly clear to you the numerous times I clarified precisely that?” Lena blinked. “Did you think Veronica and I took the time out just to waste a few hours titillating you?” It was growled with an air of genuine frustration.

“No, no.” Kara shook her head defensively and felt stupid. “I apologise, I’ll get the signatures copied right away. Can I get you both some refreshments, Miss Luthor?” Kara swallowed and clasped her hands in front of herself professionally.

“What I would like is for you to be mentally present and act as though you’re at your place of employment when there is work to hand, Miss Danvers. You’re on my time. Not the other way around.” Lena simmered. “And believe me, I’m being very _serious_ about that—”

“It’s okay,” Veronica interrupted them with a whisper. “It’s alright, Kara, really. Lena is just acting like you’ve pissed in her cornflakes because she gets very, very flustered around me.” She winked and pushed a small warm smile at the nervous one. “You’re not to be blamed for that.”

Kara felt her body stiffen awkwardly. Whatever game Veronica was playing, it would only serve to make Mommy angrier. Whatever the complicated history of spurned friendship was between them; it was clear that they had known each other for the longest of times. Veronica was pushing Lena’s buttons perfectly. She was pushing them in a way that Kara didn’t even know Lena could be pushed.

“You know what—” Lena snapped her notepad shut with a loud smack. Her emerald eyes were utterly furious, her thin crimson lips sucked between her teeth while she stewed on her thoughts. “Kara, take your fucking clothes off and rub your cunt on the corner of this desk.” Lena pointed to the corner closest to her. “Veronica and I need to have a little chat and _clarify_ a few things.”

“Yes Miss Luthor.” Kara tried not to be too eager as she unzipped her dress.

On the inside, she was utterly giddy. Her reservations had gone out of the window like a rush of steam. Two gorgeous older women were about to have a drop down fight, and she was about to get tangled up and played for a foolish little girl in all the ways that made her wet for more.

“Oh, and Kara?” Lena narrowed her stare as though she were lowly, annoying little brat to deal with. “You can call me Mommy now. I want Veronica to know plainly whom you belong to.”

“Yes Mommy.” Kara smirked and didn’t know how to hide her arousal.

As her clothes came off, she felt both of them watching her. There was a lull of silence. It was pulsing, angry, and on the brink of itself. As though they were about to come to thinly-veiled blows with one another and yet for now… Kara and her milky thighs and tight little abdominals were Switzerland.

“Well I see why you keep her around, Lena, although if her refreshment service is anything to go by you must get awfully parched.” Veronica shrugged and spoke first. “Is it every day she forgets to feed and water you or is that the effect I have on her?” She smirked.

“Veronica, you are the most irritating fucking person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.” Mommy harshly bit.

“Thank you,” Veronica whispered sincerely. “I was worried you had forgotten.”

When Kara found her rhythm on the corner of the table, her hips slowly moving against the smooth wood, the dynamic between the two older woman gave her ample inspiration to make quite a mess. They were the same age but Veronica looked much younger. It was a neutral assessment to the sugar baby. Kara liked the way Mommy looked, liked the way she had little lines and soft curves and wrinkles on the back of her hands. Veronica on the other hand looked as though she were still in her early-thirties.

What they did share in common was how captivated they both looked, how utterly intense their stares were; primal, both breathing heavily, loving and hating every moment of this. There was just one small problem.

Neither of them were looking at Kara.

“You always did like occupying yourself with smaller women who can’t put up much of a fight,” Veronica said it as though it were a neutral statement, one that wasn’t intended to be an insult towards Kara. “I can’t tell you how funny I find it that you have probably both thought of me while fucking the other.” That part gave the sugar baby whiplash.

“You overestimate your significance to me,” Mommy laughed as though Veronica were a fool. “Then again, you always did like occupying yourself with women who make a fool of you at every turn.” Mommy’s teeth gritted slightly.

“Wait, wait—rewind.” Kara blinked and looked at Lena, taken off-guard and not entirely sure. “Is Veronica your ex-girlfriend?” She suddenly felt foolish.

Kara didn’t know what her exact feelings were. It’s not as if she had bothered to ask Lena about her previous relationships. It felt like something that should have been mentioned, something she should have known, or maybe at the very least something that she should have been able to read from their dynamic if they were ex-girlfriends.

Lena just sat there quietly, her eyes locked with Veronica’s and her chest pushing slowly. It was as though she didn’t know how to answer the question. Perhaps she just enjoyed Kara’s whiplash, or perhaps holding big secrets over her was a power-play in and of itself.

Kara considered it, and despite her indignation, her attention pulled away to how hot and tight her cunt felt from the idea of being played for a fool. The thought of two older women, two ex-lovers, two warring sugar mommies wrapped up in their complicated past taking it out on her like an innocent little bystander to the fallout… it was more erotic than it was infuriating.

“No no, not her ex-girlfriend,” Veronica said with a reassuring tone.

“Oh.” Kara blinked and felt bad for being disappointed. “Well, that… that doesn’t make me any less confused but I guess that makes sense—”

“Her _ex-wife,”_ Veronica clarified.

“Your ex-wife?” Kara snapped at Lena with a thunderous boom.

“Lower your tone, little girl, before I give you something to shout about.” Lena shot the kind of look that instinctively made Kara quieten herself. “Ex-wife isn’t the most… accurate descriptor.” Lena softened slightly.

“Just because it wasn’t legally recognised doesn’t negate that vows were made, dresses were worn, and you, my dearest, made me a silent shareholder in your company.” Veronica shifted her eyes towards a whiplashed, silent Kara. “If you were wondering why it is that Lena and I continue to play nicely despite the circumstances, that’s your answer. What’s good for the goose...” Veronica pushed a slow, shit-eating grin and stared around the boardroom that she privately owned a portion of. “By the way, how is that decision playing out for you?” She narrowed her eyes at Lena.

“Regretfully, thank you for asking.” Lena sat straighter.

“Well, you got the girl.” Veronica gestured towards Kara. “If rom-coms have taught me anything, isn’t that supposed to be the real victory?”

Lena pushed a small tight smile. “Sure,” she mused. “Still, if you let me buy your shares back so I don’t have to keep wasting my time finding new and calculated ways to cut you back down to size…” She stopped and thought about it, nodding. “Well, that would be quite the victory too.”

“You were a terrible, awful, toxic person to be in a marriage with—”

“A life partnership,” Lena clarified.

“But,” Veronica said, lifting her finger as though she hadn’t gotten to the crucial part. “You’re an excellent businesswoman, and I like profiting off of your hard work. Call it restitution.”

“Do you know what I call restitution?” Lena leaned forward out of her seat with a snarl on the edge of her lips, her finger pointed in Kara’s direction as though she were an exhibit. “Imagining the look of shock on your face when she showed you for the fool you are — enjoy those pictures, they won’t keep you warm at night.” The memory gave Lena a good laugh.

“Mommy?” Kara spoke up tacitly.

“Not now, Kara.” Lena lifted her finger.

“Mommy please—” Kara blinked and felt embarrassed.

“What?” Lena snatched her stare towards her blushing little girl.

“I’m really, really close.” She nodded down to the gleaming corner of the table where she had been slowly grinding her cunt. “Can I cum? Please Mommy?”

All of a sudden, all at once, the argument that had been bubbling was finished. Lena lifted her eyebrows and considered it, reclaiming an air of control of herself in the process. She smirked and turned back to Veronica.

“You are the most irritating human being I have ever met.” She blinked and thought about it. “But, the sex was always very good wasn’t it?”

“How do you think I managed to put up with you for sixteen years?”

“Well if you’re never going to let me buy back those shares we may as well learn to play more... nicely with each other?” Lena nodded back towards her baby girl on the brink. “What do you think, Veronica?”

“I think if she cums before I do, I’ll sell my shares to Morgan Edge and give you a much, much bigger problem to deal with than your little whore’s bad graces.” Veronica didn’t so much as stutter.

Kara lost her breath and held on to herself, barely. She shouldn’t be turned on, she knew that. There were so many questions to ask, boundaries that needed to be re-clarified, shock to process too — because how the fuck did she not know what game they had been playing with one another much yet using her as a pawn. But she was turned on, she was beyond turned on, she was so close to cumming that she could feel it trembling deep in her belly. She was humiliated, objectified, played for a fool, and god was it arousing.

“You are a little whore,” Mommy turned to her, her eyes amused and aroused. “It turns me on so much when you’re embarrassed and humiliated, Kara. Does it turn you on too?” She gave Kara the opportunity to cut her losses and leave.

“It turns me on so much that I don’t know whether to be repulsed with myself or with you, Mommy.” Kara stared and meant every word.

“Good, that’s very good.” Mommy pushed a little smile, amused. “Be a good girl and get up on the table, I want you to offer your pretty little asshole and let Veronica play with my favourite toy.” Mommy inhaled and looked at her ex-wife sternly. “She can’t take it home, of course, but I’ll let her take it for a spin.”

[FIND THE NEXT CHAPTERS AHEAD OF THE CURVE PLUS PICTURES OF GUINEA PIGS WEARING TINY HATS I KNITTED MYSELF](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

Alex felt her eyes bulge and twitch. The veins in her throat pushed up and damn near made a break for it. She nodded harshly, murmuring mmhms, swallowing back the expletives. This… this revelation had just taken ten years off her life. She had no doubts.

It took effort and patience to be Kara’s big sister, that was a skill she would always be learning. The Lena Luthor situation proved as much. She hated the woman—foul, old, perverse, arrogant woman—despised her even. It took everything to mind her words when she had hosted Lena as a guest. It took even more to mind her words right now.

“Kara, sweetie?” Alex licked her lips and spoke up.

Kara stopped recounting her week and looked over her shoulder from the coffee she was pouring in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Kara blinked.

“Would you—” Alex inhaled and held on to it, nodding and smiling politely in order to cause no offence. “Would you mind not telling me all of the details? I don’t need to hear how they edged orgasms out of your asshole.”

“The orgasms don’t actually come out of your asshole, there’s just a lot of erogenous tissue—”

“Kara, sweetie.” Alex lifted her hand and shook her head vehemently, her polite tone wobbling with tension. “I don’t need to hear about the erogenous tissue in your asshole, please, thank you.”

“Okay that’s fair,” Kara agreed with a sigh. “That was the main revelation anyway. Lena and Veronica are ex-wives. Or ex-life partners. I think getting them to agree on a descriptor might be an achievable goal if there is a next time—”

“A next time!” Alex finally exploded. “Two women old enough to be your mother used you as a fucking sex slave to hash out a grudge and you’re worried about achievable goals for a _next time_?”

Kara calmly lifted the coffee to her lips and took a hot sip. She swallowed, thinking, nodding, warming her hands either side of the ceramic mug. Alex utterly shook, her stare furious and her arms entwining in front of her chest until she looked like their mother.

“Yeah,” Kara said, point blank.

“Kara,” Alex paused, her expression at a total utter loss. “I love you, and I am trying. I am trying so desperately to understand because I don’t want you to drift away from me, and I know that… this makes you happy.” She stopped and rubbed the back of her neck. “But you are going to get your heart broken in a big fucking way if you think this woman gives a _damn_ about you or your needs.”

“I like the things we do, Alex, I like that she is my—”

“I know,” Alex said with faint disgust at the thought of the unspoken. “I know you do and I have to accept that,” she softened. “But, I’m just asking you to hear me when I say that you need to prioritise yourself.”

Kara nodded and didn’t go back at her. “Okay Alex,” she said softly too. “I’m sorry that I tell you too much without thinking. That isn’t fair on you. I promise I’ll keep prioritising myself. If it stops feeling good, I’ll cut my losses, I promise.”

“Okay,” Alex felt a tiny bit better. “Alright, thank you. You can always talk to me. Just, not about the stuff you put in your butt please because that’s.” She shook her head and watched her sister stifle an apologetic laugh. “It’s gross, Kara.”

***

In Lena’s master bedroom, the far corner where two internal walls met had become somewhat of a second home. Kara liked it that way. When she was on her knees, warm, enclosed, alone and with her thoughts, there was a sense of safety and sub-space that crept up out of nowhere.

Mommy was still in the shower. That in and of itself was a lovely tease to get lost in. Kara imagined her steaming skin, her wet gleaming body, her solid defined arms reaching and stretching while veiny hands lathered her skin. In these moments, Lena ceased to exist. She was simply Mommy. She was the entirety of Kara’s insular little world.

“Baby?” Mommy called out.

“Yes Mommy?” Kara perked up and got off her knees.

“Grab me a fresh towel, please.” The water was turned off.

“Okay Mommy,” Kara sighed happily and padded out of the bedroom.

There was something lovely about Mommy’s place on a Friday night. Without the threat of work tomorrow, without the impending doom of a world outside, it was like being in a tiny insulated bubble reality.

Mommy’s home was starting to feel like a space she was becoming more and more comfortable in. Kara knew where the cutlery went, where the bed linen had to be put away, and also thankfully where the towels were kept. She grabbed a soft fresh one that had been placed on the warmer in the guest bathroom, then made a detour to Mommy’s dresser on the way back to grab something for her to wear.

“Well look at you with all the foresight. Thank you, good girl.” Mommy smiled at the sight of her silky pyjamas hung over Kara’s arm.

“Figured you might want them too,” Kara smiled. “I’m very okay if you don’t though.” She glanced her dripping body up and down with a sense of cheekiness.

“I think being nude for the pleasure of another woman’s view is your responsibility, dearest, not mine.” Mommy’s emerald eyes shone with amusement.

Lena bent down to dry her legs with the fluffy towel, and all Kara could do was bite her bottom lip at the sight of her stretching shoulders. There was something about Mommy’s body that she would never get over. Whenever she was allowed to glean her in from a new angle, it was like falling in love at first sight. Mommy was immaculate beyond words, lady like and poised, even when she wasn’t wearing a damn thing at all.

“Stop being slutty, Princess, I can _feel_ you looking at me.” Mommy chuckled and stood back up, drying her stomach and sides.

“Can you blame me Mommy?” Kara whined a little bit.

“No,” Mommy shrugged and smiled. “You seem a little more subby than usual... You’ve usually spoiled yourself with at least one wise-crack by this point on a Friday evening. Is there any particular reason?”

Kara blinked and thought about it. “The stuff with Veronica…”

“Was it too much?” Mommy was quick to worry.

“No, no.” Kara waved it off. “I mean, I don’t understand why you didn’t mention she was your ex-wife—”

“Ex-life partner.”

“Sorry Mommy, of course, your ex-life partner.” It made Kara force off an amused smile at the defensiveness. “It was more objectifying than we normally play, and I loved it, but I guess tonight I’m feeling a little more… _little_. Does that make sense to you?”

“That makes sense to me little girl,” Lena sighed and stepped closer, her expression empathetic and gentle in a way Kara wasn’t used to. “I take it you just want Mommy to be soft and lovely tonight? Treat you like a sweet little thing who needs some tender loving care?” She pouted. “I’m not above reading you a dirty bedtime story, princess, you should know that,” she jokingly craned her eyebrow.

It was as though Mommy had just offered to suck her pretty cunt to the brink of sanity. The simpleness of the words, the softness they were uttered with, the way she was looking at her as though she were a little thing to be cherished and handled with great care.

It was entirely removed from sexuality and yet Kara felt her knees go weak with arousal. The shift didn’t make sense in her brain, and yet, in this moment, the thought of laying over her Mommy’s lap with those perfect manicured fingers sweeping through her hair while they read a dirty story together… Kara felt like she couldn’t breathe for how desperately she wanted it. It was pedestrian, it was thrilling beyond words, it was exactly what she wanted.

“Please can we?” Kara’s eyes glittered with want.

“That’s what gets my little girl’s cunt tied into knots?” Mommy seemed shocked. “You just want a dirty bedtime story?”

“Well…” Kara felt embarrassed.

“Sweetie,” Mommy became so soft in her tone all of a sudden. She took Kara in her arms, pulled her into warm wet skin, slipped hands around her bare hips. “Let’s just have a nice easy weekend? I want you to feel cared for. I want you to feel like your emotional needs are being met.”

Somehow, that outward expression didn’t feel compatible with the fact Mommy had never _once_ mentioned her ex-wife. Yes, it wasn’t Kara’s business. Yes, they were in a transactional relationship and therefor Lena was entitled to have secrets that wouldn’t be acceptable if it wasn’t for the pay arrangement. But her ex-wife was _Veronica_ and that felt so deliberate it could not be ignored.

On some level, it left Kara with doubts about whether their arrangement started because Mommy wanted her, or because she just wanted to spite her ex-wife. Kara knew it was inconsequential. She would have still entered the arrangement had she have known the full truth. It just sucked that she didn’t. It sucked, because most of all, she wondered if it meant that Lena felt she couldn’t trust her.

“Stop thinking to hard,” Lena sighed into her scalp. “I know you have questions, I know that, I can hear them swirling already. I promise I will get round to answering them but let’s just have some soft quality time and worry about that later, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Kara whispered and sunk into her sub-space. She nuzzled into Lena’s chest, allowed it to feel good, allowed herself to feel good. “You promise it’s going to make sense?”

“I can’t promise that,” Mommy replied with a reassuring hum. “It is what it is, I have my reasons, but I’m willing to be a little more forthright and explain them, and you can make of it what you want to make of it.”

Kara nodded and felt happy with that compromise. “Quality time first please?”

***

Kara spent the evening tucked into warm solid ribs that pushed-pulled with breaths that tickled her hair. Mommy kept a hand firm on the side of her hip, the other busy with the iPad she read aloud from. In the end they settled for a story called Mill On The Floss. Kara didn’t particularly understand if there was any significance, but Mommy enjoyed reading it for her, pressing little kisses here and there on top of her head after certain paragraphs. Kara had no complaints.

They were naked, and it was unimportant, it was unsexual, they were warm and bare and stealing heat from one another like a pair of moths beating against a flame.

“Mommy?”

“Yes Princess?” The little wrinkles in the corners of each eye bunched with the warm smile.

Kara realised she didn’t even have a question. She just… wanted to say that word. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. She wanted to paint her entire fucking world with it, cover everything, coat it all, make everything Mommy. Lena was so beautiful like this, so warm and solid and safe. She was Mommy in all the ways that mattered. She was Mommy in all the ways that didn’t.

Kara knew it wouldn’t last for much longer, maybe until Sunday if she was lucky, but Monday would roll around the way it always did and Mommy would go back to being Miss Luthor, and she Miss Luthor’s glorified servant. Kara didn’t know what to do with the information, she felt as though these fragile moments had to be clung to with both hands and made to last, and so she simply buried her lips against Lena’s ribcage and uttered her new favourite word again.

“Mommy,” she whined and sighed.

Lena seemed to perfectly understand without being directly told. Her arms became a blanket, a safety net, and Kara melted and clambered on top of the older woman. If she was supposed to feel embarrassed about this new state of subspace she had accessed, then she didn’t. Mommy’s skin smelled of oud and rose, feminine in the absence of femininity, expensive and clean, and Kara wanted to swaddle herself inside of it. Yes, she loved it when they played rough. But this? She could get used to this.

“So pretty and small and soft,” Mommy rasped, voice stuck in her throat as though she were handling a little kitten. “Are you feeling good?”

“I’ve got my Mommy all to myself for the next forty-eight hours, and she’s being very very nice to me.” Kara grinned and kissed the side of her jaw, then pecked the top of her ear. “It’s very easy to love you tonight.” Mommy instantly stiffened at that particular word.

“No no, you’re okay,” Lena instantly soothed and rubbed Kara’s back, detecting the almost-imperceptible nervousness that had just consumed her whole. “I’m just… it’s been a long time since someone’s said words like that to me. That’s all.”

“Do they make you uncomfortable?” Kara propped her chin on Mommy’s collarbone and studied her expression.

“Not uncomfortable,” Mommy whispered and tucked blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s just been a while, and I just don’t want you to be hurt if I don’t say it back.”

“I don’t need you to say it back,” Kara promised and settled her cheek against the warmth of her chest. “I always know where I stand with you, Mommy, and I might not like it sometimes but I love that you’re consistent. You show up for me in the ways you know how to, and I don’t care if it’s not a good love story, it’s good enough for me—”

“I was never in love with Veronica,” Mommy blurted out of nowhere. “I need you to know that you aren’t a long game I’m playing with my ex-wife, because to tell you the truth, we were just two kids who got tangled up in a very, very bumpy and long ride together. You are not an ongoing act of revenge, Kara. You are a grand act of self-care for me.”

“So you’re trying to tell me the arrangement at the job interview had nothing to do with pissing her off?” Kara scoffed. She didn’t believe a word of it.

“I didn’t say that.” Mommy lifted her finger. “I said you weren’t an _ongoing_ act of revenge. To tell you the truth, I thought you were cute when you walked in my office, and I had been thinking for a while that I wanted to date a younger woman on my own terms. I have a lot of resources and life experience to offer. Why not you? You were there, I liked what you were offering, you liked what I was offering in turn. The fact I got to piss Veronica off… well that was just very serendipitous. I don’t _not_ believe in fate.”

Kara paused and didn’t know what questions were acceptable to ask, mainly because the details of Lena’s life had always felt like an unspoken boundary. It saddened her in private moments, if only because she wanted to hear Lena’s version of events rather than the cover notes she had gleaned from her Wikipedia page.

“Mommy I want to ask questions.” Kara licked her lips and decided to just be direct about. “Can I please? If it’s something you don’t want to answer… you can just tell me and we’ll skip it. Could that be within your limits?”

Mommy paused for a while, but she didn’t seem tense or apprehensive. Her hand swept up and down Kara’s spine, her soft ribbon-smooth thigh hooking over the body buried on top of her.

“Can I ask questions back if any come to mind?” Mommy murmured against the crown of her hair.

“Okay,” Kara nodded and kissed her cheek, then pecked her lips. “Can I go first?”

“Sure, why not.”

“You’re a very deliberate woman, and I know you running late to the meeting was intentional. Why did you want me to have that time alone with Veronica?”

When Mommy’s hand began to slip away from her spine, Kara quickly brought it back and held it to her cheek. It was the only way Kara knew how to communicate that her questions weren’t accusatory, just curious, just wanting to understand, just trying to piece the picture together, and it was alright if those pieces didn’t fit together perfectly. She just… wanted to understand the bigger picture.

She kissed Mommy’s palm. That made Mommy smile, really smile, and that was a wondrous thing in and of itself. When Mommy was pleased, her lips widened into this beautiful beam that showed off her pearly white teeth. It made her cheeks bunch into perfect apples, and Kara would never get over how beautiful the laughter lines on her face were when enunciated and made to work for their keep.

“Nothing gets past you, does it little girl?”

“I graduated Cum Laude from Princeton, remember? I’m pretty smart, or at least that’s what I’m told.” That made Mommy laugh.

“I don’t think you’ll like the answer I have for you, Kara,” she sighed.

“I’m not asking for an answer I’ll like. I’m asking for the honest answer, Mommy, that’s all.” Kara held on to her hands and kept them on her cheeks. “I just… want to understand you.”

“Veronica is younger looking, more attractive, more fashionable, she always was, it’s really nothing new.” Mommy rubbed her temples. “I didn’t want to walk into that room with you and watch you make big love-heart eyes at my ex-wife. I figured... if I gave you a ten minute headstart you could get it out of your system.” She shrugged. “It was me being benevolent to you, and perhaps a little bit cruel to her. I didn’t want her to see that your attraction towards her got the best of me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were married to her?”

“It wasn’t technically a marriage, it was a civil union—”

“Okay, alright, not-technically-a-marriage,” Kara sighed. “You know what I mean.”

Lena sighed and furrowed her brow. “It didn’t feel like something that was pertinent. We were together, we were together for far too long because we went through a lot together, we both had a number of affairs as we grew older, and then we weren’t together anymore. I processed my feelings about it years before things ended and we both consequently moved on. Telling you wouldn’t have benefited either of us.”

“You were together for sixteen years?”

“Yes.” Mommy blinked, as though she didn’t understand it was a question that merited an unabridged answer. “Well, technically seventeen but we were separated for a year before we dissolved our civil union.”

“Well, you seemed very flustered in her presence Mommy?”

“Yes.” Mommy nodded, her voice warm but firm. “Veronica is a beautiful woman if nothing else, and a very large portion of our lives are tied-up in one another’s — I mean, we got together before you were born, Kara, you must understand that. She also has me in the hole for over a six-hundred million dollars worth of L-Corp shares. I am over Veronica, I am simultaneously not over her when I have to sit in front of her and remember sixteen years of my life, she is a tapestry of good and bad memories.”

Kara heard that number, the big number, and her eyes immediately grew wide. She felt her jaw drop, it just hanging there limply as though her mandible had forgotten what to do with it.

“You signed over thirty-percent of your assets?”

“That’s a story I would like to skip for now, if I may, it’s tied-up in some very bad memories.”

“Of course,” Kara said instantly and pecked her palm again.

That seemed to take Mommy off balance, as though she were automatically prepared to be pushed, to have the boundary nudged, to relent some information she didn’t want to give because Kara wouldn’t be able to take no for an answer. She blinked and nodded, then nodded again.

“Thank you, Princess,” Mommy whispered. “I think I’m done with questions about Veronica tonight, but let me just leave you with this to consider. If I was hung up on her, if I was palpably hung up on the relationship you two once had together, I would not have facilitated the games we played. She’s an attractive woman, we’ve both had chemistry with her in our own different ways, and it felt like something that would be fun and productive for _us_. Forget about Veronica, it was fun because I shared it with you, and because I know Veronica well enough to know she would never push your sexual boundaries. It was a safe way for us to explore playing with someone else.”

“It was fun, Mommy,” Kara smiled. “To tell you the truth… it was kind of hot watching you be at each other’s throats.”

“Goodness, you should have seen the sixteen year highlight reel. We had some screamers.” That made Kara laugh. “Could I ask you a question in the spirit of good faith, Kara?” Mommy said once the chuckles died down.

“Of course, Mommy.” Kara pushed up and sat on her hips, her palms pressed against Mommy’s belly for leverage. “Anything you want.” She smiled.

“How long is this sustainable for you?” Mommy asked with a sense of detachment.

“In what context, Mommy?”

“I’m twenty years older than you. I’m in my forties, and it’s hot for you now, but what about when I’m fifty, what about when I’m sixty and you’re thirty-nine? What about when I’m hedging seventy and you’re… not seventy? What’s the time limit on all of this?”

“Stop.” Kara placed her hand over Lena’s heart. “Don’t do that. Please, don’t do that.”

“Ask questions you don’t know the answers too?”

Kara shook her head. She inhaled and thought about her answer. She wanted to be sugar sweet, she wanted to give Mommy every reassurance, she wanted to be the thing that absolved her of her shame. Mommy wouldn’t accept it if she tried. Mommy had been around the block, in her own words, and knew this game back to front. She spoke one language: business and aligned interest. So, Kara felt that was a good place to start.

“You’ve made it clear that this arrangement is transactional to you before anything else. I am attracted to you, Lena, more than I can explain. I think you’re beautiful, I love that you lend me your life experience, and I like that you take good care of me. If we didn’t have a transactional arrangement… I think I would still be exactly where I am right now.” Kara cupped her Mommy’s cheeks. “But we do have a transactional arrangement, and you don’t need to worry about ten or twenty years from now, because you’re in control of all of this Mommy. I’m here for as long as you want me to be here, and then maybe a little bit longer after that because I… I’m starting to love you a bit.” Kara swallowed and didn’t care to hide it. “I’m getting there at least.”

“I’m glad we talked tonight, Kara, really,” Mommy murmured and seemed human all of a sudden. “Would it be okay if we tried this again sometime? Being gentle to you, giving you the best bits of myself I feel capable of offering, it very much is an act of self-care for me.”

Kara kissed her all of a sudden, out of nowhere, stole her all at once like a little thief in the night and refused to stop pecking and nibbling and diving deeper to suck her tongue. Mommy seemed taken aback at first, unsure of what to do with the attention, but then she giggled and allowed the cry baby to take her up with decided interest.

“We can do this whenever you want, wherever you want.” Kara nodded and dug her fingers behind her ears. “And the other stuff, the stuff where you’re mean to me, where you push your fingers in my ass and growl in my ear what a dirty little bitch I am for you?” Kara bit her bottom lip and stared with pulsating intensity. “You can do that too, Mommy, I’m not looking anywhere other than you.”

It was like something switched in Mommy’s brain. Out of nowhere, she shuffled off the bed with Kara on her hips and in her arms. When she stood up and took Kara with her, carrying her towards the bathroom, the sugar baby couldn’t ask questions for her own state of surprise. When did Mommy get this strong?

“Where are we going, Mommy?” Kara laughed boisterously and clung on to her shoulders for dear life.

“We’re running a bath.”

“You already showered?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t,” Mommy growled and kissed her, nipping her soft plump lips for good measure. “A big, hot, long bubble bath. I like it when you’re being sweet and innocent, I like it when you’re being a naughty girl too, I think I’m going to put you in the bath and touch you all over… see how long it takes you to cry and beg me to push my fingers inside of you and let you grind and cum on my palm.”

“We’re there already, Mommy.” Kara nodded enthusiastically. “Please? Pretty please?”

Mommy laughed at that.

“If you think that’s begging…” Her emerald stare darkened. “I’m about to show you the biggest edging of your soft little fucking life.”

[Find the next two chapters HERE along with some cool stuff I done did](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: 9/11

( _Lena and Veronica origin story chapter._ )

It wasn’t easy meeting other lesbians at DePaul. Lena had learned that in her first semester. A few years prior? She would have been kicked out if anyone caught the faintest inclination of who and what she was. But, it was 1997, nearly the turn of the millenium, and college meant she could finally be herself around a _few_ liberal people at least.

Though, they were in short supply here at DePaul.

Attending DePaul like the rest of her family was simply part of the deal if she wanted to inherit control of the company, a good Catholic education, the same as her father and his father and so forth. She was just a child when she was orphaned but the stipulations were very clear — it was a reputable Catholic university or no dice.

The estate and trust lawyers had found loopholes. One full academic year at DePaul was enough to satisfy the clauses, and then she could transfer to MIT.

God, Lena could not wait to transfer to MIT. There was bound to be other dykes at MIT. It was one of the best STEM schools in the world after all, and she imagined all kinds of liberal, worldly, smart nerdy lesbians who might attend there too.

She only had a few more months left here in Illinois, and staying invisible was becoming less and less high-stakes. She needed more experience with girls, and she needed it fast. So of course, she had agreed to the blind-date. What was there to lose?

“And what’s a bad girl like you doing in a nice place like this?” Lena plonked herself down beside her blind-date with a sense of borrowed, put on confidence. “Lena Luthor.” She pushed out her hand with a grin.

It was a joke—a bad, stupid, awkward joke granted—but very much a joke. The girl didn’t even crack a smile.

Dorothy had suggested she tried dating girls her own age when she ended the tryst. Lena was inclined to agree, Dorothy was forty-five years old plus change after all. That kind of age difference? It wasn’t sustainable, despite how desperately she wanted it to be, it just simply wasn’t. Lena felt she had learned her lesson, no more big age-differences.

A brief mourning period, granted, but it just so happened her best friend knew a girl who knew a girl who was the same way inclined. What the hell, Lena thought. What else was she going to do with her Thursday morning? Study?

“Well you certainly don’t beat around the bush.” The girl’s feline-shaped eyes glittered with shock and amusement at the come-on. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“My mother is dead,” Lena said plainly, shrugging it off.

“Well with a mouth like that it’s no surprise,” the girl huffed and chewed her smirk, then she turned her attention back to the book she had been reading as though the conversation were over.

“That was supposed to be the part where you said: I’m so sorry for your loss.” Lena blinked, totally disarmed.

The girl didn’t bother to look up from her page. “Was it?” she asked.

“Oh I get it,” Lena became certain. “You’re in the Dead Mom Club too?”

“No,” the girl laughed. “I’m just not invested in your inner emotional workings yet, sorry.” She shrugged.

There had been no pictures exchanged, just the time and place they would meet which had been communicated through a small network of friends. Two o’clock at the good coffee shop across campus, the Asian girl in the red sweater, that was all Lena had known about her — other than her name.

It was two o’clock and here she was at the right coffee shop, she had successfully located the only Asian girl wearing a red sweater, yet the girl was acting as though Lena was completely imposing on her. She sat there and flicked the page of her book as though Lena didn’t even exist, which was infuriating, if not also completely nerve-wracking.

And she hadn’t shook Lena’s offered hand either, which Lena promptly realised she was still holding it out like a total idiot. She suddenly didn’t know what to do with the palm that had been awkwardly hanging there the entire time.

“What are you reading?” Lena found a purpose for her unshaken hand and took the book right out of her hands.

“Hey!” The girl stared fiercely.

“Mill On The Floss, huh?” Lena turned it over in her palms and began to sweat bullets. “I like nerdy girls, I think George Eliot might be as nerdy as it gets. You wanna blow this thing off and rent a U-Haul instead?” She chuckled uncomfortably, realising her own weirdness in-situ.

Thank god it broke the tension, because the girl just stared at her as though she were the biggest, most infuriating fool in the world. Then, she finally started up with a few faint chuckles too. She snatched the book back out of Lena’s hands, tucking it away in her purse with a sigh.

“Well you’re definitely going to have to buy me a coffee now. You’ve got me, I’m curious.” The girl reasoned with a murmur. “Black, two sugars please.”

“Sure thing Mingzhu.” Lena stood out of her chair and grabbed the wallet from her back pocket. “Is it a _shu_ or _zoo_ sound on the end? I’ve only ever seen the name written down...”

“What?” The girl blinked.

“Your name. Do you go by Ming for short?” Lena asked innocently.

There was a strange, pensive silence. Lena looked back at the girl and suddenly had her suspicions as to why that might be. It looked as though all the blood were rushing through her at once, eyes narrowed and furious, lips clenched together into a tight grimace, her body was frozen and totally tense.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” The girl stared indignantly without an ounce of humour in her voice.

Lena blinked and felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

“Did I pronounce it wrong?” She winced.

“The arrogance was kind of cute in a try-hard way, if not a little pushy and assumptive, but that’s a super fucking racist thing to say—” People were beginning to turn and look at them, Lena realised.

“Wow I must have really really butchered it,” Lena interrupted in an attempt to calm her down. “I, er, how do I correctly pronounce your name?” She grew crimson.

“Veronica!” The girl stood up and snatched her coat off the back of her chair.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck _fuck_.

Lena wanted the floor to swallow her whole.

“Wait. Wait, can you just wait—” Lena reached out and grabbed her arm. “I am so sorry. I am so, so, so incredibly sorry. I think there’s been a _big_ misunderstanding.”

The girl was still angry but she stopped for a moment, her fingers wound tight in the purse strap she had just slung over her shoulder.

“I’m—or at least _I was_ —I was supposed to be on a blind-date,” Lena licked her lips and lowered her voice. “My friends organised the whole stupid thing. Two o’clock, Asian girl in a red sweater, they said her name was Mingzhu. I thought…” Lena looked her up and down guiltily.

“Is this some kind of joke?” The girl— _Veronica_ —looked her up and down with narrowed eyes full of disbelief.

“God no!” Lena held her hands up. “I promise you, I’m not kidding.”

Despite her horrifying predicament, despite the fact it was only becoming more humiliating on a moment to moment basis, Veronica chewed on a growing smirk. Then, the tiniest burst of laughter escaped her. She stifled it back, reclaiming her serious expression. Lena couldn’t help but breathe a little sigh of relief, the girl was awfully beautiful and had a sick sense of humour too. The prospect of her originally planned blind-date was becoming less attractive by the moment.

“I’m Nepali. You get that Nepal is not China?” Veronica fixed an expression that gave nothing away.

“Well.” Lena scratched her head. “I do now?”

“You’re not off to a good start, Lena Luthor.”

“I know I must have came across like a total asshole but… unless I’m reading this the wrong way…” Lena inhaled and lowered her voice. “You’re gay too? And I don’t _not_ believe in fate, so maybe I could buy you a coffee and we can figure out if this is the first date story we tell our grandchildren? What do you think?”

“Jesus Christ. Grandchildren now? You really are a lesbian.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, smirking. “You move awfully quick.”

“We should both move awfully quick.” Lena took her by the hand and started walking towards the door. “We’ve got to get out of here before Mingzhu turns up.”

***

On her twin bed, sighing and digging out a comfortable position, Lena was finally packed up and ready to leave. The school year was up and her time at DePaul was over. She had survived. She had made it to the finish line.

All that was left was the Gillian Anderson poster above her headboard, which she had promised to a friend who was coming back in the fall. The stack of clutter she had no intention of taking with her, that was for the the garbage. Everything else was back in her suitcases, and in just a few short days this nightmare would finally be over.

“Stop wriggling, stop breathing too loud!” Veronica groaned and held her tighter, her eyes glued to the little television set on the edge of the desk. “You’re ruining Xena.” She humphed.

“Sorry,” Lena whispered full of fondness, fingers running through her thick soft hair.

Lena held her breath with some sense of determination to make it to the next commercial break. As it turned out, this year hadn’t been a total nightmare. Lena just didn’t know what to do about it. Veronica couldn’t come to MIT, that would be insane, yet the relationship had become too important to be finished and thrown away like the stack of clutter. It left things in a state of flux. They were dating, but they were both realists, and fifteen hours was a very long drive.

This was going to end in heartbreak, they both knew it, they both didn’t care.

“Lena you can take a breath.” Veronica noticed her chest hadn’t been push-pulling and stared at her girlfriend as though she were stupid.

She was stupid. Lena was nineteen years old, wet behind the ears, still figuring this whole thing out, and she was above pretending otherwise just for the sake of seeming cool. She gasped for a big gulp of air and laughed hard at her starved lungs, which made Veronica chuckle and groan in frustration.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Veronica chided and clambered on her hips, winding in the collars of her plaid shirt. “Remind me, why is it I like you?” Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.

Lena hummed and thought about it. “I figured out that thing you like where I suck your clit and flick it at the same time with my tongue, remember?”

“You didn’t invent it, Lena.”

“Okay, but I’m prepared to do more field-research and refine the method.”

“But Xena...” Veronica huffed and knew it was a fight worth losing. Lena was already pecking her collarbones, pulling at her shirt, doing things that made her throb in good places. “I swear to fucking god if you pull this when Buffy comes on I will—”

“It airs again at two in the morning,” Lena reminded, whispering softly against her collarbone. “That could be…” She chuckled and did the math. “Seven hours of field-research?” She pecked, then pecked some more.

“You’ll get wrinkly fingers.”

“Well, Mingzhu, I’ll tell people I had a very long bath.” Lena dodged the pillow that was thrown in a fit of giggles.

Lena laughed and looked at her, really looked at her, looked at her in that breathless kind of way that felt like a cornerstone memory in the making. Veronica was beautiful, warped, funny, ruthlessly acute when it came to being infuriating, and she was so very in love with every last bit of it.

They had discussed the orphan thing in-depth, and the whole five-hundred million dollar estate conservatorship that hung over Lena’s head until she would finally turn twenty-five. Her parents had made stipulations about that too, until she inherited executive control of the family estate and company, all she got in terms of a trust-fund was her tuition and rent paid — plus a thousand a month while she was in full-time education, providing she didn’t flunk her grades. Enough so she could focus on her studies, but not so much that she would be too comfortable.

“Come to Massachusetts with me?” Lena blurted.

Veronica stopped undoing her bra, and for a moment Lena wished she had held off an extra few seconds. Those gorgeous, glittering feline-eyes found her with a sense of amusement and disbelief, then they became narrowed and indignant.

“That was never the deal, Lena.” She fixed a serious expression. “I want to study here, you want to study there, we promised we wouldn’t be those lesbians. We’re not rushing.”

“I know, I know we promised but I’m asking.” Lena sat up with her girlfriend on her hips. “Come with me? The estate attorney approved a year advance on the rent, it’ll be big enough for both of us and we can turn the spare bedroom into a cosy for you to read George Elliot—”

“And I just drop out of school?” Veronica tried to make her see reason. “I just give up my life for a girl I’ve been dating for less than four months?”

“No, no.” Lena scratched her head and realised just how selfish it would be to ask that of her. “You… you could just have a little time off, that’s all. The rent and bills are covered, plus I have my trust fund too. Transfer to MIT, they have a statistics and data programme, you would have a _much better_ degree at the end of it and—”

“I like where I study now, Lena.”

“I don’t like where you study, Veronica.” Lena became petulant. “Because it’s fifteen hours away from where I’m going to study and I love you.”

“You love me?” Veronica seemed taken aback.

“I love you.” Lena kissed her hard and deep. “You are the most irritating person I have ever met in my life and I love you.”

“I’m still not coming to Boston, but thank you,” Veronica whispered into the kiss, which made Lena laugh.

“You’re not going to say it back?”

“Of course I’m not.”

***

It had ended, because of course it was always going to end, and it had broken Lena’s heart, because of course it was always going to break her heart. Fifteen hours was a long, long drive. They had made the trip three times, and three was enough for them to realise it just wasn’t sustainable.

The thing that broke Lena’s heart most of all was that she had been the one to cheat. It was just a kiss, until it wasn’t just a kiss. It was just a one-night stand, until it was a two-night stand. It was just a casual arrangement with Tracey from her statistics class, until she woke up to Veronica at the end of the bed with a bunch of roses and a broken heart — a surprise visit because Veronica felt bad for missing her birthday. _Surprise_ , indeed.

A month later, Lena had a tiny fading scar on the side of her temple where the roses had been used as a bludgeon and Tracey wasn’t much better off. Lena felt she deserved it. She had no basis to complain anymore. Despite the fact Veronica changed her number, Lena still called in the faint hopes it would connect. Despite the fact the emails bounced back, Lena still went to the internet cafe twice a week. And, despite the fact her letters begging for forgiveness had gone unresponded, she wrote them anyway.

The wind tore through the streets as class piled out from Tuesday morning statistics. Lena walked slowly with Tracey toward the coffee shop, quietly annoyed because she didn’t like to amble; quietly annoyed because Tracey didn’t understand her sense of humour and twenty minutes of walking was a long time to pass without a single joke.

“Oh god,” Tracey gasped as they stood in line. She clutched Lena’s hand, noticing something and responsively dipping her head as a result.

Lena looked over to the seating area. She didn’t understand at first. Everything appeared to be in order, no strange characters stuck out, in fact the coffee shop wasn’t particularly busy either. There was seven, maybe eight occupants dotted around the tables, all quiet and minding their own business. Then, all of a sudden, what spooked Tracey finally caught Lena’s eye.

Blowing a mug of black coffee, a girl in a red sweater sat at a table by herself reading Mill On The Floss with an indiscernible expression.

“I’ll get the coffee to go?” Tracey murmured.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lena nodded dumbly and couldn’t take her eyes away. “Do you mind if I…” She exhaled, glancing towards the girl Tracey wouldn’t look at.

“No, you should go take care of it.” Tracey smiled. “It was our coffee shop before it was hers after all,” she joked and bumped Lena’s hip.

No, Lena wanted to say. You have no fucking idea, she wanted to laugh at her. Instead she just nodded and felt her legs move independently as though they were disembodied from her brain, as though they didn’t care that she hadn’t yet thought of what to say.

“Hello,” Lena whispered.

Veronica didn’t respond, she didn’t so much as take her eyes away from the page she was gleaning in. The coffee mug was lifted to her lips, the page flicked over, and all Lena could do was stand there with her hands buried in her pockets.

“Would sorry be a better place to start?”

“That you cheated on me with Ellen Degeneres?” Veronica glanced at the blonde floppy-haired butch that Lena had walked in holding hands with. “Yeah, Lena, sorry and then some. That would be a start.” Veronica angrily murmured, then fixed her eyes back on the book.

“I’m sorry and then some,” Lena said and sat herself down. “I’m sorry and then some more on top of that. My mother… she’d be rolling in her grave.”

“That you cheated?” Veronica lifted her brow.

“No, that I slept with two women. I mean the first homosexual encounter? I’m sure God gives you a mulligan. The second? That’s definitely Hellfire…” Lena nodded and hoped for a laugh, but it didn’t so much as earn a smirk. “I’d probably deserve it, wouldn’t I?” she added quietly.

“And then some.” Veronica gave nothing away.

“You got my letters?”

“All twelve of them, yes.”

“And you came to tell me in person to leave you alone and let things be? That’s… well. Thank you for the personal touch—”

“I’m not at DePaul anymore,” Veronica said, flicking the next page and following the text with shifting eyes. “I hate you. I mean I really, _really_ hate you Lena. In fact I went back to Illinois and thought about how much I hate you for a good while. But, then I realised I hate being without you even more.” The next page was flicked more aggressively than the last.

Lena sat there and didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, she wanted to apologise, and not for the cheating this time. She wanted to apologise because this was by far more selfish. Veronica loved DePaul. Veronica loved Illinois. Veronica loved her life long before some little lovestruck fool had come barrelling into the picture with a bad joke on a blind-date gone wrong.

“You told your parents, didn’t you?” Lena closed her eyes.

Veronica hesitated for what felt like the longest time. Her eyes remained fixed on the page, but her tight lips fidgeted, as though she didn’t know what to say and what not to say, as though she were trying to hold back the emotion.

“With or without you in the picture, they were going to find out at sooner or later.” Veronica shrugged it off and forced a sense of calmness over her fraught voice. “Although, telling them the day before I came out here and found you in bed with the best friend you couldn’t stop talking about… maybe not my smartest move.” She somehow managed to smirk at the irony.

“Your parents cut you off, didn’t they?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Veronica finally shot her a look.

“I think you should come home with me,” Lena said with conviction. “I think you should let me cook you dinner and we’ll make up the guest bedroom… if that’s what you want. I’ll call the attorney who takes care of the conservatorship and figure out a way to take care of your school fees and get you on whatever programme you want to study. Hector’s a good guy, most of the time at least, he’ll make it work. Would that be a start?”

Veronica thought about it. Then, finally she closed her book.

“And then some.” She sighed and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go home.”

They left Tracey standing there, high and dry, with two coffees to go in her hands. Lena didn’t feel bad about it, she knew that she should, but she simply didn’t. It was Veronica, and it would always be Veronica. Things would be tough for a while and she knew that, but she knew in her bones they would figure it out.

She knew it in the same way she knew Hector wouldn’t be bend the stipulations to find money for Veronica’s tuition fees. It would be tough but they would figure it out; she had a thousand dollars from her trust, and assuming they both got jobs, plus a credit line, then it would stretch. Lena would make it stretch. As things currently stood, it was all or nothing and they were already in too deep.

***

They graduated top of their respective classes with the debt to boot. The irony of that didn’t go amiss upon Lena. She was theoretically worth half a billion dollars and yet she had defaulted on her last two car payments and couldn’t afford the winter heating bill. Entry-level jobs didn’t pay much and Lena had lost her thousand dollar stipend now she wasn’t at school anymore. But at least they had each other, or something.

Four years and counting, both of them twenty-three years of age and barely getting by, they were happy despite the circumstances. They were happy because they had to be happy. They were in love because they had to be in love. They had put too much into this—lost too much because of this—and so they were happy on the surface of things despite the underlying fact that they weren’t as happy as they once were.

Most days, Lena felt as though the relationship had merely become a formality. But, New York had put a bandaid on the bulletwound in that regard.

They were in a new city, tiny fish in a big pond with only each other to lean on, working in offices that faced one another, and Lena was old enough to finally understand that these were a rare and precious few years for her to experience the world—for all it’s joy, for all it’s misery—as a normal person.

She had always resented her parents for the stipulations, for the fact she was technically one of the wealthiest people in the world and yet she had spent her college years waitressing during the day and bartending at night just to keep things afloat. Now, she was becoming old enough to understand that the struggle was a gift.

In less than two years she would have an immeasurable responsibility to bear, a sense of stature that would separate her from the rest of the world. But, for now, they had a little apartment in a rough part of town and each other to lean on, new jobs, new friends, new things to keep them busy.

“I think Christina’s definitely a lesbian, I mean, she has a mullet and keeps a picture of her roommate in her wallet. We went for lunch yesterday… she asked about you. I wanted to tell her. I didn’t, but I kinda still want to.” Veronica chewed a mouthful of takeout straight from the container for her breakfast, hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter, she regaled Lena on the social dynamics at her new job. “Anyone batting on the same team at Schwab?” She wiggled her brow.

“Baby, sweetheart, light of my life—” Lena grimaced and pinched the bridge of her nose. “ _We agreed._ ” Lena was firm yet soft, desperate for this to not dissolve into an argument before the day had even got going.

“We can’t stay in the closet forever, Lena. We’ve had the same five friends since college,” Veronica whined.

“And they’re great friends!” Lena exasperated. “Look, I’m not saying we would get fired, I’m not trying to catastrophize—”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” Veronica huffed and aggressively jammed the fork into her takeout container.

“That is exactly what I’m _not_ doing.” Lena closed the distance and put her palms on her thighs. “Just, look at me a sec? Please?”

Slowly, Veronica stopped stewing long enough to put the fork down and meet her girlfriend’s sympathetic stare.

“A year and a half. We’ve already made it four years into this thing without upsetting the apple cart…” Lena softened her tone when the glare came. “Eighteen months and I’m going to be able to take care of us, really really take care of us, and you can tell whoever you want, you can be as loud and proud as you want to be, but for now we _need_ stable jobs babe.”

“You really think we’re going to be fired for being gay in New York City?” Veronica rolled her eyes. “It’s _New York_ , Lena.”

“I’m hearing what you’re saying,” Lena gritted her teeth and remembered the advice the couple’s counsellor gave them. “But, Sam lost two jobs last year before she went back to Boston. Cum Laude, double major, top of her class, hardest worker I know, and she had to file for unemployment within six months of being here.”

“I’m hearing what you’re saying, and I’m glad we can share our feelings.” Veronica’s lips became thin and tight, but Lena appreciated that she was trying too, it meant that the hundred dollars for the therapy appointment wasn’t a total write-off. “It sucks for Sam, but she got let go because of company restructuring.”

“Oh for god sake listen to yourself Veronica!” Lena finally burst, she simply couldn’t contain it anymore. “Sam got let go because she was on the front page of the New York Times on a giant rainbow float holding a Dykes For Human Rights sign last Pride! I did not work two jobs to put you through school so you could throw it away over some stupid infantile fantasy of love conquering all. I’m sorry your parents disowned you, I’m sorry you want acceptance, I’m sorry that the world hasn’t caught up to you yet, but you need to _grow up_ and think like someone who has bills to pay!”

The takeout container exploded against the kitchen wall and splattered red thai curry across every available surface. There was the security deposit gone, Lena wanted to tear her own hair out. The troublemaker just sat there with a furious look, teeth grinding, fists tight, and where Lena once saw fire and passion, she now saw a childish little girl having a temper tantrum.

“The day we met—” Veronica started and stopped, her windpipe rocking in her throat. She closed her eyes and inhaled a slow, deep breath. “The day we met I thought you were the bravest, loudest, most confident creature I had ever met. You were so… _open_.” She opened her eyes, glancing Lena up and down with a faint sense of disgust. “Now you keep a picture of Kevin on your desk so people don’t ask questions and you tell your work friends I’m your roommate.” She just shook her head and threw her hands in the air.

“You’re the most irritating person I have ever met in my fucking life.” Lena grabbed her coat, her purse, gathered herself in bits and pieces towards the front door. “Tell Christina whatever you want to tell her, Veronica, it’s always been you on your own team anyway. What does it even matter what I say?”

“Me on my own team?” Veronica hissed and followed through the apartment. “You are so quick to forget what you did with Tracey—”

“You wanna know something,” Lena turned with a cold, serious expression. “I do regret what happened. I really regret what happened. If I had broken up with you before I slept with Tracey, if I had let you go like I _should_ have done, then you wouldn’t have told your parents, you would have stayed at DePaul, and I would have had my life on my terms. Instead, out of fucking guilt, I have carried you on my back the entire way here.”

“Thank you, Lena, on form as always,” Veronica murmured and looked at the clock. “Maybe you should carry yourself to work, we’re both running late and you have that meeting.”

Lena glanced and realised the time. “Fuck!”

September 11th, 8.30am, her first performance review at the new job… the performance review she now had precisely thirty minutes to get across town to.

***

The performance review had gone great.

Then the world changed forever.

There was a boom, then the building shook. It shook so hard that the tables shuddered and the chairs went spinning. It shook so hard that Lena thought an earthquake had hit. When she glanced out the window she saw the North Tower on fire, somehow still upright with a gaping wound that disemboweled the building’s guts inside-out. All of it was no more than three floors beneath Veronica’s office.

“Everybody stay calm, there’s been an incident in the North Tower, a plane has accidentally flown into the building, there is no need at this time for the South Tower to evacuate,” the message came over the system no more than a minute later, and it was a short-lived relief for anyone who didn’t have someone in the neighbouring building — which wasn’t many.

On the twenty-sixth floor, despite the assurances from her supervisor that everything was fine and there really was no need for panic, despite the packed elevators ferrying people down, Lena didn’t waste a second and took the stairs three at a time.

She felt incapable of explaining her horror to anyone. They thought she had a boyfriend out of state, here for all of a month with no real ties to the city. They couldn’t understand, they wouldn’t understand, how could she begin to give the abridged version of the truth?

_The love of my life, my best friend, the most irritating person I have ever fucking met, she is trapped in that building, and we are both too objective to pretend she is making it down alive, so I need to go outside and get ready to take the phone call. I need to go outside and get ready for: I’m sorry for the things I said, I’m sorry for the things I didn’t say, I love you, I love you, I love you and goodbye._

The chaos in the street was pandemonium. She ran, cell phone in her hand, calling, calling, trying desperately to get through, running and unable to do anything else. That was when the second boom rang out. That was when it became clear there had been no accidents, only deliberate acts.

On the corner of West and Chambers, Lena watched the towers come down. The buildings collapsed, there one moment and gone the next. Still she kept calling Veronica’s cell phone. Still, she kept calling and calling despite the fact the coverage wouldn’t connect the call, despite the fact Veronica could not have made it out from the hundredth floor. Still, she called as the debris rushed through the street, as dust coated everything, as the police pushed the crowds back and the world became nothing but fire and smog.

She called and waited for a call that wouldn’t come. She called until her phone died, and then she hung around and waited some more.

There was red thai curry all over the kitchen from this morning, and that couldn’t be goodbye. It couldn’t be. Not after everything they had been through. Not after the things they had sacrificed. It couldn’t end with the awful things that had been said, and the wonderful things that now never would.

***

They stood in the kitchen, covered head to toe, in disbelief at the sight of the other. There were no tears, there were no I love yous, they just stood there in silence, tears carving through the dust on their cheeks while the splattered walls sat red and stained from early that morning.

Veronica had been sent to meet with a client as soon as she got to the office and was four blocks away when the first plane hit. When the second plane hit, the phone service had already gone down, and she couldn’t get through to Lena. They had both spent the day convinced of the unstomachable, stuck in a state of pre-mourning, certain the grief was warranted.

“Well,” Veronica spoke first, her voice hoarse and broken. “That certainly puts some things into perspective—”

“You are the love of my life,” Lena blurted. “You are my best friend, the person I have built my life with, who I want to piss off the long way around, and we’re going to tell everyone you want to tell, okay?” She pushed forward and grabbed her girlfriend’s cheeks, fierce and protective as though they were nineteen years old all over again. “No more closets, not with the people who are important to you, not to the people who are important to us. It’s you, it’s always going to be you.”

Who else did they have if not each other?

***

Lena hung around by the bedroom door while Veronica sat on the phone to Christina’s partner.

She had spent two weeks calling just about every Robyn Smith she could find, that was the name of Christina’s roommate, and Veronica being Veronica, she felt it was the right thing to reach out. Christina hadn’t made it out of the tower, and someone needed to check on her person.

“I’m so sorry they did that to you,” Lena heard Veronica gasp in disbelief. “If it’s okay I’d like to come and see you, sit with you, if you need anything…”

Lena felt guilty for listening, or maybe just too horrified to stomach it anymore. She slunk to the kitchen and did her best impression of a woman capable of making dinner.

Life at the moment, it was just a performance of going through the motions, pretending to be getting back to normal, acting like there was a state of normal to get back to in the first place.

Veronica was supposed to be on that floor — Lena had spent a whole day convinced she had been — and she didn’t know what to do now. She nearly lost the only person who loved her, the only person she loved in turn, and despite all the problems, despite all the unhappiness, despite the knowledge that they had been outgrowing one another for a long time… Lena understood there was a very real reality far worse than being unhappy with Veronica.

Being unhappy _without_ her.

“Poor woman,” Veronica huffed as she padded out of the bedroom, her hands tucked inside the sleeves of Lena’s hoodie that had been worn like a comfort blanket for days now.

“So they were a couple?” Lena asked, already knowing the answer.

“Together for twenty-eight years, can you even imagine?” Veronica slipped her arms around Lena’s waist and tethered herself there. “Christina’s family… they banned Robyn from the memorial service.”

“You’re kidding?” Lena span around.

Veronica shook her head. “Robyn went around all the hospitals looking for her in the aftermath. She bumped into Christina’s family at New York Presbyterian.” There was a long pause. “They had security remove her.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Lena reflexively dug her fingers into her girlfriend’s arms. “They were together for twenty-eight years and they didn’t get civil union papers?”

“They were waiting for marriage equality to pass, it was all or it was nothing.” Veronica sighed. “Or maybe they just wanted to keep things behind closed doors, you know, like you up until two weeks ago.”

It could have so easily been her, Lena thought. It could have so easily been them. Veronica’s family would have done the exact same thing if she hadn’t—by some god given miracle—been at that client meeting on the 11th. Lena knew it, and still she couldn’t fathom it. For better or worse, it was them, and it would always be them.

***

“What are you doing?” Veronica winced as the bright bedroom light hit her eyes.

Lena was asking herself the same question. It was two in the morning, it was a rash decision, it didn’t make sense given that three weeks ago she was contemplating ending the relationship altogether, but here she was after a day back home spent searching high and low for her mother’s engagement ring.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Lena said with a nervous swallow and produced the weighty diamond from her pocket. “I know we can’t legally get married, but I want to know that if anything ever happened to me, if anything ever happened to you…” She stopped, her chest suddenly tight with the thought. “We’ll get civil papers, and you can wear this ring and we’ll know that we’re married. Forget about anybody else, _we’ll know_. When I come into my inheritance I’ll sign over thirty percent of my shares, because I want you to know that I’m very serious when I say I’m going to take care of you for the rest of my life, regardless of whether it’s inconvenient to me one day. It’s you, and it will always be you.”

Veronica stared, and for a moment she seemed taken aback but not necessarily thrilled. Funny really, it reminded Lena of that very first day they met back at DePaul, the overwhelming sense that they were having the same conversation but hearing two very separate and distinctly different things.

“Are you proposing to me?” Veronica stared blankly.

“Yes.”

“No,” Veronica didn’t skip a beat as she flopped back down.

“No what?”

“No, you’re not proposing to me.”

“Yes, I am.” Lena nodded and pushed the ring forward. “I got the ring, I said the thing, this is me proposing.”

“You don’t get to propose to me like it’s a funeral pact. You don’t get to ask me to marry you without saying I love you.” Veronica fisted the sheets and rolled over.

“Of course I love you,” Lena exasperated. “Did you not hear anything that I just said?”

“Say it again.” Veronica sat bolt upright, her stare narrowed and serious.

“I love you,” Lena said. “I love you and I’m going to marry you whether you like it or not, so deal with it.”

“Whether I like it or not, huh?” Veronica chewed a smirk. “You’re not very romantic.”

“Would sorry be a good place to start?” Lena laughed and offered out the ring.

Veronica sighed and just shook her head, thinking, not thinking, decided and yet unsure. This thing… it had run its course years ago. They both knew it. The trouble was, there was no family for either of them, nobody to love and be loved by except for the other. It was them, for better or worse, and sometimes worse simply had to be enough too.

“Sorry and then some,” Veronica whispered and pushed out her hand.

“Sorry and then some,” Lena repeated with a soft tone, smiling and content. “We’ll have that put in the newspaper announcements.”

[Find my updates ahead of the curve along with cool stuff HERE](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Angsty/Cancer/Veronica

“Kara I’m not going to ask you to sign an NDA—”

“That’s very good,” Kara smiled and uncomfortably adjusted the purse on her lap in an effort to occupy her hands. “It’s good because if you did ask me to sign a non-disclosure, Miss Sinclair, that would be my prompt cue to walk out of your office and tell Lena the whole story leading up to this moment.”

“Miss Sinclair?” Veronica grinned in disbelief, completely ignoring the rest of it. “You know I had my fingers inside of your asshole less than a month ago, right? You left me high and dry for my ex-wife, you’re essentially her employee because that’s just about the only context she understands when it comes to successfully managing a relationship,” Veronica reeled it all off quicker than Kara could protest. “And you don’t feel like we’re on a first name basis, Kara? Really?”

“Fine, Veronica. You were my sugar mommy for a hot minute. You’re my present mommy’s ex-wife. And,” Kara blinked, realising with that one statement just how out of bounds she was for being here without Lena’s expressed permission. “I think you and her have a very… complicated and sometimes-adversarial relationship that I was previously unaware of. Which begs the question, why did you ask to see me without her knowing about it?”

When the phone rang last Thursday, Kara had been busy on her morning commute and answered without thinking. If she had been thinking, if she had looked at the caller ID, she wouldn’t have even picked up the phone. But the conversation was short and Veronica only had one thing to say, or rather propose, an offer of a hundred-thousand dollars for a single meeting alone and unreported to Mommy.

Kara declined of course, but before she could hang up and call Lena to explain what had just happened, Veronica upped the ante. Half-a-million dollars to a charity of her choosing as a gesture of good faith, there and then. All she wanted in return was one platonic closed door meeting, no reporting back to Mommy until she had a chance to explain some things in person.

Kara did it for the children in poverty, or at least _tried_ to make it stick in her own head. Truth be told, she also wanted to know what was so pressing that it was worth half-a-million dollars to Veronica Sinclair.

For now, Lena was under the assumption she had a shopping appointment across town for lingerie and pyjamas for their ritual date-night. Kara was operating in good faith with Veronica. There was something in the way Veronica had spoke on the phone that gave the impression it was something to do with Lena but yet she had refused to say explicitly unless they met face to face. Veronica was keeping her cards close to her chest, and Kara wanted to understand why.

“Veronica,” Kara sighed and fidgeted with her glasses, picking her fingers when they came back to her lap. “I’m going to be straight with you. I’m sorry that I ended our arrangement in a way that was so rude. You were a client at the time and I should have shown you a sense of professional courtesy. But, I really like Lena. I like her so much and I’m asking you very, very nicely, if this is some kind of game please just leave me out of it—”

“I've been diagnosed with a grade four glioblastoma multiforme. There was a tumour before, she might have mentioned it but I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't, but... not like this one.” Veronica leaned back in her seat, somewhat enjoying the sudden look of shock on Kara’s face. “Did you know they call it The Terminator?” She cocked her head to the side, unemotional to a fault. “If I was playing games with you Kara… they would be quick ones, believe me.”

Kara scoffed in disbelief. “Bullshit.”

Veronica sighed at that and rolled her brown eyes, then she pulled her desk phone towards herself. She lifted the receiver and began to dial a number off by heart, as though she were somehow about to hand over a smoking gun.

“What are you doing?” Kara furrowed.

“You’ll see.” Veronica clicked the conference function. The sound of dial tones ringing out filled her office, then a familiar voice answered. “Hey Lena,” Veronica sighed.

“Hi Veronica?” Mommy said, her voice warm but unaffectionate. “I know I said I’d get back to you about the business proposal quickly but I’m just walking out of the office. Is it something more urgent?”

“Yes, yes it is. Sorry to bother you without a heads-up. I’ve been looking everywhere and I can’t seem to find the paperwork from when we went to Switzerland for the proton beam therapy. Do you know if you have any of it in your dungeon-keep?”

There was an awkward pause.

“Dungeon-keep. I hate that you still call my home office the dungeon-keep.” Mommy laughed uncomfortably. “Why do you need the paperwork from Switzerland? Has,” there was a tiny pause as though Mommy really didn’t want to ask the question, but she inhaled and reclaimed herself quickly. “The cancer. It isn’t back already, right? They said at least ten, fifteen years of remission. They said—”

“Lena stop, don’t worry yourself, I can hear your cortisol levels rising already. I thought I would call and ask because an old friend of mine got some news she wasn’t expecting today.” Kara watched Veronica glance at her with a smirk, as though the joke didn’t hinge on her own mortality. “I figured if she saw my case it might be helpful for her to realise this is very much happening, and there are options on the table for her.” Veronica never took her stare away from Kara, as though she were speaking to her just as much as Lena.

“How urgently do you need it? I would send Kara over to check and go through the home office but…”

“You don’t want her to know my medical history and then have to explain the very inconvenient dissolution of our marriage—”

“ _Our civil union_ , but yes, sure, let’s go with that.”

“I understand, Lena, it’s fine. You’ll look for the paperwork when you can?”

“I’ll tell her to come over later than usual tonight and I’ll look for it as soon as I get home. Just to check… which friend is it?” Lena’s voice became tense, as though they shared a finite amount of friends between them and she didn’t want to play guessing games.

“Nobody you’re fond of, Lena. I’d do you the courtesy of telling you if it was someone you liked, but if it’s all the same to you I’d like to respect their privacy.”

“Of course,” Lena sighed. “I have to get going but… I’m glad you don’t have cancer again. You’ve been keeping up with your doctor’s appointments? They’re on top of it?”

“Lena I never stopped having cancer,” Veronica reminded with a low voice, as though this were a conversation they were in the habit of having. “It’s just in remission, it’s just a well-managed fire, and it’s not a problem today or tomorrow so stop worrying. I mean it.”

“Worry about you?” Lena scoffed. “There isn’t a brain tumour big enough to take you out, Veronica. I doubt a megaton bomb would do the trick.”

“Don’t get any clever ideas, Lena. Oh would you look at that! I’ve found the Switzerland paperwork on my computer. Sorry for bothering you unnecessarily, Lena, have a good day.” Veronica had never stopped staring lock-eyed with Kara, and she didn’t so much as glance away as she hung up the phone. “Believe me now?”

Big trouble. This spelled big, big, _big_ trouble. Whatever this was, whatever the fuck was going on, whatever best-intentioned thought processes had brought Kara to this meeting with Veronica, she wanted no more. Why did she answer the phone? Why the fuck did she agree to this meeting?

“Veronica, I am so sorry about your prognosis. I really am but,” she stood up almost violently from the chair, throwing her purse on her shoulder, flustered and well-aware it was in poor taste given the circumstances. “I have to prioritise Lena, that’s my number one job in every context of my relationship with her, and your prognosis doesn’t change that—”

“Kara just hear me out, please, you’ve made it this far. I’m really not trying to throw a spanner in the works, I’m.” Veronica blinked and drew a big, deep breath as though this were the clincher. “I’m trying to do quite the opposite. Please, sit down.” Veronica gestured back towards the chair.

Kara inhaled and went through the mechanical motions despite the fact she wanted to leave, desperately. She wanted to leave because she knew she was already in too deep, she wanted to leave because she was now privy to information that Lena had decidedly not wanted her to know.

That in and of itself was a deal-breaker, she knew as much too. Lena liked to be in control and right now she was the one without the facts. It was incompatible with the nature of their relationship. Kara wanted to leave, but she didn’t, she wanted to know nothing more, and yet privately beneath her outward assertions, she wanted to know all of it.

“Thank you,” Veronica sighed and pressed her elbows against the desk, clasping her hands and resting her chin on top of them pensively. “Kara, how much do you know about Lena and I?”

“That sixteen years is one hell of a long ride, and that I don’t want to try and unpack it. You were together, then you stopped being together, and now _we’re_ together. It’s a linear series of events, you at the beginning and me at the end.” Kara bristled.

“And I’m not trying to disrupt the order of that.” Veronica lifted her hands defensively. “I, well, I would actually… just like for you and I to be platonic friends, Kara. I would like for us to be two women who endeavour to give each other important information where Lena Luthor is concerned.”

“Because you want to give me all of her secrets to spite her?” Kara lifted her brow.

“Not because I want to spite her.” Veronica became frustrated as though she were dealing with petulant child. “Because in less than a year I’m not going to be here anymore, Kara, and I’ll be taking nearly twenty years of her life with me when I leave.”

“This doesn’t sound like an arrangement that would serve Lena’s best interests, and if it doesn’t serve her best interest—”

“I’m getting there!” Veronica rolled her eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ you’re more impatient than she is.”

“So just hurry up and get there, please,” Kara calmly insisted.

“I just want someone to be there for her, to have the full picture, to be able to remind her of good things from her past, that’s all.” Veronica shook her head and tried to make it make sense. “Here’s the thing, Kara, you were lucky enough to be born in a time where being gay doesn’t make you a pariah. Lena and me? We were never soulmates, just survivors clinging to each other to tread water, and I need you to keep her afloat when I’m not here. I have the history of her life, you have the rest of it that hasn’t been written yet, we should be on the same team because of the fact.”

“Lena and I are in a transactional arrangement, she could end it at any time, I don’t have anything other than what she’s willing to offer,” Kara said point-blank.

“Oh I know you have her. I know you are the exact person she always needed... someone who lets her push you around, someone who lets her take care of you, someone who takes care of her in turn. I’m under no illusions that your romantic relationship may come to an end one day,” Veronica shrugged. “But I have a way of making sure you’re a permanent fixture in her life, Kara. All I’m asking is that you fulfill a promise on my behalf that I made to her after we parted ways, and that you be someone she can reminisce with about her life.”

“You mentioned a way of making me a permanent fixture in her life. I need you to be explicit with the things you’re inferring, please.” Kara leaned forward, unsure of what was being said and yet desperate to understand.

“I have six-hundred million dollars worth of L-Corp shares.” Veronica fixed a tight smile. “And I can’t take them to the grave with me, Kara.”

“I.” Kara felt like she couldn’t get her breath. “I’m sorry. Lena is expecting me back at the office soon, I need to go—”

“Just think about it,” Veronica jumped out of her seat and followed towards the door. “Please, just think it over.”

Kara’s hand hesitated on the door handle for a moment. She chewed her lip and nodded, her mind already made up despite the fact she didn’t want to be so reflexive. She turned back to Veronica as she opened the door.

“I’ve thought about it.” She nodded. “And I’ve made up my mind.”

“Good,” Veronica said. “Once a week, one hour at a time, that should be enough to give you the big stories. Well, most of them at least.” She scratched her head. “There’s a lot of them…”

[Blah blah Tumblr link blah blah](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

On her best days, she felt like somebody else’s scrapbook.

Veronica likened it to being a human tapestry, because that was functionally who and what Lena Luthor was for her in turn. They were never soulmates, just witnesses, just lovers, just life-long friends at the very least, and maybe enemies on their worst days too.

The little girl couldn’t possibly understand the importance of it yet, she was barely in her twenties, she hadn’t even started living let alone thinking about which people would be around long enough to bare witness to the history of it all.

Veronica knew she would soon stop living altogether, and she wasn’t ready to process it, but because of that reason there was a sense of urgency in making sure Kara understood Lena’s life the way she understood Lena’s life.

Lena Luthor wasn’t always a monolith, after all.

Once upon a time, she was a seven year old girl who lost both her parents in a car crash. A thirteen year old who won the state science fair and then the national. Then, she was nineteen in a coffee shop, falling all over herself, blushing crimson. Lena quickly became a twenty-one year old woman working two jobs to get by. Then a twenty-three year old woman who watched as two towers came crashing down. On and on it all went, there was so much of it, too much of it for one person to wrap their heads around, and yet that was the task at hand.

Kara only had the current irritation of Lena Luthor to make sense of and that… that simply wasn’t enough. If she was going to be around forever, then she needed the history of a forever that had existed before. Lena was never very good at letting people in despite wanting to let people in, never good at talking about herself despite needing to talk about herself.

Veronica... she didn’t know how to be a wife but she felt she knew how to do this one good thing.

Lena deserved to have at least one person around that knew her life in context. That was all she was doing, contingency planning for a future that Lena was herself incapable of contingency planning for.

When the doorbell rang, Veronica had been pouring over picture albums in the living room, or at least trying too. The headaches were inconvenient in regards to her prolonged focus, but she had done her best, gone back over the past in search of a convenient starting-point for Kara to jump into and get the ball rolling.

The trouble was… there was too many convenient starting points. The more she had gone through the pictures and letters, the more she realised just how many good lovely things had happened in their lives.

But, the doorbell had rang, and truth be told it was a pleasant distraction from her skull-splitting headache. She got up and stretched her legs for the first time in hours.

“Hello— _oh dear_.” Veronica blinked.

Lena stood there wordlessly. She was the picture of calm, the picture of utter indifference. If it wasn’t for the faint smell of whiskey on Lena’s breath then Veronica wouldn’t have instantly known. But she did smell of whiskey, she did smell of cigarettes, and Lena only did those things when there were problems simply too big to be solved.

“She told you,” Veronica whispered indignantly and rubbed the spot where her temple and tied-up curly hair met.

Lena paused for what felt like the longest time, throat rocking in her windpipe so hard that it make Veronica’s throat ache too.

“She told me.” Her emerald eyes darted for a second, as though reality hadn’t quite dawned on her but… it was starting to now. “Well, she played it for me actually. Kara had the recorder switched on in her phone, so, er, it was technically _you_ who told me. It’s just as well. I,” Lena halted and glanced her ex-wife up and down. “I don’t think I would have believed her otherwise. I wouldn’t want to have believed it.” She bit the corner of her mouth.

“She had no right!” Veronica realised the wobbly, broken, heartbroken yawp was her own.

“Alright, just—” Lena reached out to touch her arms but then she brought her hands away. That wasn’t who they were to one another, not anymore. “Please, can I come inside?” Lena dug her hands in her pockets instead.

“It’s late.”

“It’s still my house too. I just don’t usually make a fuss about it.” Lena pushed past her and moved straight towards the kitchen. “Do you have coffee?”

“I have Jameson.”

“Even better. I think we’re going to need it.”

***

When the recording had finished playing, there were no tears in her eyes, and that struck Kara as perhaps the strangest that had happened to her all day.

Of course, Lena wasn’t okay. Of course, Lena felt betrayed and angry too. Kara was ready for all of it, forcefully prepared in fact, but Mommy just sat there with a blank expression, nodding to herself sporadically as though she were listening to an NPR podcast.

“It’s okay if you’re angry,” Kara whispered, dumbly. “I’m sorry, Lena, I’m especially sorry that this is coming from me but I made promises to never lie to you, and this wasn’t a secret I had any right to keep.”

“Stop.” Lena raised her hand, her voice almost-imperceptibly wobbling, but she shook her head and reclaimed herself instantaneously with a crimson smile. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Kara, really. I appreciate that you’re looking out for me. Goodness, six-hundred million dollars in L-Corp stock. I don’t know many prostitutes who would turn there noses up at that,” she scoffed, as though it were genuinely amusing.

“Lena, I understand that you’re hurting but here’s what’s going to happen. If you ever call me a prostitute by means of insult again, I will set you on fire.” Kara calmly shifted out of her seat and didn’t give the big boss the dramatic fight she was looking for. “Secondly, it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s okay if you need to be alone, and it’s okay if you don’t. I’m not going to fight you about it.”

There was a long pause that seemed to suck the air out of the living room. It was as though Lena Luthor, for all her age, for all her wisdom, didn’t even begin to know what to do with the prospect of someone being comfortable with her discomfort. Kara imagined that she was used to arguments, insults, being cruel to others in the face of sad things because it was the only get out of jail free card she had ever been given to behave in such a way.

Kara thought that was silly, and so she just sighed and padded to her coat to get the car keys, just in case Lena wanted them back, just so some loose ends could be tied up tonight, worst case scenario.

“I’m sorry,” Lena muttered after a moment, as though the word were poisonous in her mouth. Kara just smiled and nodded in acceptance, turning back to face the human apology. “I’m sorry I tried to get a rise out of you, you’re—well, very clearly, you’re not a prostitute—but I’m not angry with you, I promise.” Her lips fidgeted tightly.

“Okay,” Kara didn’t push it despite the untruth. “That’s, well, okay then.” She shrugged.

“I lied—I’m. I’m lying,” Lena murmured and then shook her head somewhat frantically. “I’m not fine, I’m not okay, and I’m _fucking furious_ that you went over there but I just don’t have the bandwidth for that to register in the top five things right now!” It burst out of her like a sonic boom.

When Mommy hung her head and started to cry—not tears, not wet blubbery trails, her whole body simply shaking as though her bones felt they had something to prove—Kara stood there and inhaled deeply, resolute and comfortable with the discomfort.

Lena was hurting, and God she wished that wasn’t the case, but it gave her a tangible way to show up for Mommy in the ways that mattered.

“Is sorry a good place to start?” Kara softly asked.

When Lena’s emerald eyes shot up from her palms, narrowed and acute in the way they fell on the sugar baby, Kara felt she had done something wrong. She furrowed her brow, waiting for it, but then Lena sighed and shook her head.

“Sorry and then some,” Lena said.

Kara thought that was an odd thing to say.

“I know the nature of our relationship predicates certain things about how we interact with each other but…” Kara sighed. “I am big enough to handle you in this state. I’m big enough to face up to it. I’m just not willing to lie to you, Lena, even if it means I have to break your heart, I am _never_ going to lie to you.” She handed Lena a few tissues.

“Thank you,” Lena sniffed uncomfortably, moving from the arm chair to the decanter for a stiff drink. “I’ll. I’ll call the best doctors, I’ll fly in the best neuro-oncologists, whatever trials are coming out of Hopkins,” Lena knocked a fast whiskey back. “I’m going to fund all of them and get her in—”

“No, no, stop that.” Kara interrupted calmly, murmuring, dragging her knuckles down Mommy’s spine. “You’re not going to do that, not before you speak to her, not before you sit down with her.” Her hands found two trembling, taut, solid biceps to clutch and press her thumbs into.

“That’s who Veronica and I are to one another.” Lena lifted her chin, clearing her throat, unsure of how to make Kara understand. “We are not people who leave each other stricken by the side of the road.”

“I understand that.” Kara nodded calmly. “But I don’t think Veronica needs you to do that. I think she just needs you to be okay, which is a very big ask given the circumstances, but you’ve spent twenty-four years showing up for each other in the ways that count so maybe...” Kara sighed and dug her thumbs in. “Maybe don’t break a winning streak?”

“I just don’t want her to die.”

“That’s not something that is going to happen today or tomorrow,” Kara slipped her arms around push-pulling ribs busy gulping back another drink. “Lena?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Go over to her place tonight.” Kara snuggled from behind and hung her chin over a shoulder. “Just go over there and do whatever feels right, whether that’s talking or… _not talking_.” Kara tried her hardest to be deliberate in how she phrased it.

“I don’t want things to change between us.” Lena clutched the hand on her belly. “Things have felt so good these last few months and now… _this._ ” She shook her head.

“Things aren’t going to change,” Kara promised and nuzzled into the jet black soft curls on the nape of her hair. “I’m going to go and get in your bed and sleep here tonight, I’ll be here all weekend too, I’m just telling you that it’s okay if you’re at her place. There isn’t going to be any broken hearts if you don’t come home tonight.”

“I probably should go and talk to her,” Lena agreed.

“It would be a start, Mommy.” Kara kissed the side of her neck.

[Find more of me and my stories HERE.](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

The house was nothing like she had left it.

The dining room had been knocked through, the entire groundfloor now open-planned and a ghastly uniform shade of boring ivory cream. The art had been packed up and replaced with photographs of people Lena didn’t recognise. Were they stock photos? Had Veronica put up homely picture frames that still had the mass-produced image of a family dog? Either that or she was hiding a Labrador somewhere.

The kitchen _really_ put things into perspective.

Lena once had monochrome finishings, calacatta marble counters straight from Durban, gold ornamental lighting fixtures made from recycled trombones and french horns—which, granted, was rather gauche—but God was it a damn sight better than the current state of things.

Veronica had torn everything out and turned it into a boring, plain, creamy-coloured country kitchen. Out with the kitsch and quirky, in with the design aesthetic of a Christian mother of six rambunctious teenage boys. Lena was at a total loss. Privately, despite the bad news that brought her here, she was grieving for the trombone chandelier.

“It’s lovely,” Lena said unconvincingly, nodding her head. “Was… was the _Live Laugh Love_ sign a conscience decision or just a happy little accident?” She pointed to the Etsy creation.

“Fuck off, Lena.” Veronica fetched two glasses from the cupboard. “I know this might surprise you, but after you moved out I finally had the chance to decorate something to my taste without asking permission, so I went wild.” She shrugged.

“And this is your idea of wild?” Lena’s pointer finger went towards the china cabinet. “A crystal gravy boat is _wild_ to you, Veronica? That’s really the verbiage you’re going with?”

Veronica snapped around quick as a flash, indignant. “Eleven years I stomached the sight of that fucking tuba hanging out of the ceiling—”

“It was a Jeff Koons.”

“Well now it’s scrap metal.” Veronica shrugged and handed over a glass of whiskey, taking a sip of her own in the process. “The quirkiness was fun when we were twenty, it was bearable when we were thirty, but we’re not thirty anymore and I wanted something that didn’t give me a headache every time I walked through the door.”

“This house is a fucking mid-life crisis, Veronica. How does a woman with _that_ snake tattoo own this kitchen?” Lena grumbled over the rim of her whiskey. “It looks like your interior designer died halfway through the renovation and every nurse with a graduated bob inside the Crate & Barrel pulled together to help you produce this fucking monstrosity.” Her eyes glanced around in disgust, but her lips betrayed her into an unhideable smirk.

“Coming from a woman who wears more bland business-formal than Hillary Clinton you’ll excuse me if I don’t attach any gravity to your aesthetic criticism.” Veronica screwed her expression.

“Ouch.” Lena leaned against the kitchen island with a grin. “Just promise me one thing, for old time’s sake, for memento vitae?”

Veronica paused for what felt like the longest time.

“Shoot,” she murmured, finishing her drink.

“Leave me the Big Mouth Billy Bass in the will? I know there has to be one lurking around here somewhere...” Lena dramatically turned around on her stool, looking this way, that way, craning her neck for the mounted singing fish.

Finally it had been mentioned, or at least alluded to in the form of a petulant little joke. Lena felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, as though she wasn’t entirely cowardly, if only because she had managed to give a nod to the elephant in the room without breaking down into tears like she so deeply thought she might.

Veronica just sat there on the counter and shook her head, half-smiling, half-frowning, under no illusion about her ex-wife’s emotional innerworkings.

Veronica dropped her tone to a whisper, “It’s gonna be okay Leen, you’ll see.”

When the anger came over her, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, inexplicable and yet immovable, Lena didn’t even know where to begin with it. There was palpable rage sitting heavy on her shoulders, tensing her knuckles, making her jaw muscles ache back and forth. Nothing about this was going to be okay. She was not a child who needed to be placated otherwise.

“It’s not.” Lena cleared her throat, surly and dour. “I’m not saying I have buyer’s remorse on the divorce, I definitely don’t. I’m just saying that it’s not going to be okay.” She shirked her eyebrows up and glanced to the empty glass. “There’s only one thing worse than being unhappy with you and that’s—well. _You know what it is_.”

“Alright, Debbie Downer, then it isn’t going to be okay.” Veronica pushed a sigh. “But, you do pay the little bedwarmer a heck of a salary, so I say let’s make her earn it.” Her thin lips lifted at each corner, crinkling her eyes with amusement. “She can pick up the pieces of your broken heart when all of this is over, you and me can just hop and dodge over the rubble in the mean time?”

“We’re so very good at dodging rubble.” Lena pushed out her glass for another whiskey. “It’s easily in the top three things of what we do.”

“That’s one of your more tasteful jokes about that day.” Veronica closed her eyes and pinched her nose, hopping down to fetch the bottle.

“If I can’t joke about it with you then who-” Lena stopped and inhaled, her cheeks were wet and yet there had been no pre-warning of the urge to cry. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to join a support group, when the time comes, when I can’t call you out of the blue to make a tasteless joke.”

“I don’t think support groups like it when you make jokes about the single deadliest terrorist attack in human history. You might have to re-strategize.” Veronica poured another round.

“You like it though,” Lena tilted her chin and took the whiskey from her ex-wife. “And I like how much you like it.”

“Well that’s because we’re both sick, twisted, morbid people. Our marriage was just the universe’s way of experiencing twenty-four years of slapstick misery.”

“Will we make it to the twenty-five year special?” Lena held the heat in her throat, then cleared it with a sip of whiskey. “If the doctors have given you timeframes then I would like to know, if you’ll tell me.”

“You don’t want timeframes.”

“I do.” Lena nodded seriously.

“Lena I’m here today, and I’m here tom—”

“Give me the fucking expiration date, Veronica!” It burst out of nowhere. “ _Fuck_ ,” Lena closed her eyes, lifting her hand at the shocked face opposite. “I’m sorry, really I’m sorry. It’s just... there’s a twenty-two year old woman-child back at my house and she has this habit of saying poetic things that make me feel better in the moment but…” Lena's eyes fluttered open again, her expression somber and far more calm. “I feel very out of control, and I feel very scared, and I feel very lost, and it would make me feel better if I knew.”

“Do you know that’s the first time you’ve ever proactively said sorry to me?” Veronica blinked, totally shocked.

“No. No it isn’t, it can’t be…” Lena scoffed and thought about it, doing the math, because she knew that apologies weren’t her thing and she couldn’t pinpoint when exactly that had changed. “Well I’m still waiting twenty-four years later for you to say _I love you_ first, that’s far shittier in my opinion.”

“And I never will,” Veronica’s eyes grew wide and cheeky, the drink knocked back against her chuckling lips. “So, Lena Luthor, should I assume you’re staying here tonight and finding your way into my bed, waking up tomorrow full of regret, running back to Kara in denial it ever happened?” She seemed so certain of it. “It would be on-brand, all things considered.”

“Not full of regret, not in denial. That little girl of mine isn’t the possessive type. She, er, actually laid it all out for me before I came over.” Lena's eyebrows did the thing they did when unbelievable things had happened. "I was given strict orders not to come home tonight."

“Well well, look at Kara Danvers with the hot takes. I really would have left her my L-Corp shares, you know.” Veronica was utterly serious, and Lena knew as much. "You should consider yourself very, very lucky."

“Do you know the thing I always hated about you, Veronica?” Lena scoffed.

“You really know how to romance a dying woman, please go ahead.”

“I hate that I know you well enough to read all of your slippery little schemes.” Lena faintly chuckled to herself, rolling the drink in her hand around the glass, always the expert-detective when it came to her ex-wife's plotting. “Don't think just because this played out well for you that I appreciate your meddling."

“Don't let me stop you, Scooby-Doo," Veronica's tone became monotone. "Lay it all out like I know you want to."

“Thank you for indulging me. In one artful, masterful, very deliberate move, you knew that telling Kara and putting her in the middle of this could only end in two ways. One, she accepted the offer for the L-Corp shares and betrayed my trust, and you would have shown me her true colours the hard way around to stop me making any egregious mistakes in the wake of your...” Lena thought about it, nodding with some sense of certainty, but deciding not to outright say it. “Two, she declined the offer in order to protect my best interest, proving in the most irrefutable way that she is not with me for money. This wasn't about telling her some long forgotten unimportant stories from twenty years ago, you just wanted to make a point.”

Veronica stared stoically.

“You know I never liked it when you showed off, Lena.” She crossed her arms. “I’m glad that Kara made the right decision. I was worried for a while I might have to be the one to tell you the bad news but… Kara came through like I hoped she would and ripped the bandaid off. You’ve got a good one. But for the record, how dare you think those stories are not important!" Veronica's voice wobbled furiously.

"Wait," Lena felt taken aback. "That part was real? You wanted to tell her the stories?"

"We're not doing this." Veronica jumped off the countertop, throwing her drink down the sink. "Either come to bed and fuck me, or go home so I don't have to deal with the fucking migraine that comes when I'm around you without Valium."

***

The orgasms came quickly and without fanfare. They were old hats at this. Lena still knew the trick, the one where she sucked and flicked at the same time — holding on for dear life when tan thighs began to shake. Veronica remembered the terrain perfectly, knew that her teeth latching against a bobbing pink nipple while her fingers dug deep behind the clit was enough to map constellations for Lena’s eyes.

It was procedural, it was familiar, it was an elaborate form of masturbation, a few kisses sprinkled in between.

“That was lovely,” Veronica sighed and dug into the pillow. “Thank you, I needed the serotonin.”

“Me too,” Lena yawned and drew the blankets up her belly, just laying there for a moment while her thought processes recentred themselves. “So.” Her eyes shifted across to the snuggler. “The twenty-five year special?”

Veronica just grimaced and plumped her pillow aggressively. “Lena, I don’t know,” she replied.

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t,” she said, stern. “It could be five maybe six months, it could be a year or a little bit more, it will likely be somewhere in the middle. To tell you the truth…” There was a deep, pensive pause. “The quicker the better. This tumour isn’t the same. I don’t want to get into it, it just isn’t the same.”

“But with the right treatment plan, would you have more time?”

“No treatment plan is the right treatment plan for me, for how I want to live my life,” Veronica insisted. “My treatment plan is going to Marrakesh on Tuesday just for the tagine, a drive to Casablanca, a roam around Tangier just because I still can, because I feel like it. I don’t know about the week after, you’ll have to ask me in-situ, the treatment plan changes on a week to week basis.”

“Fine, okay,” Lena whispered, nodding and trying her best to understand. “If that’s what you want, if that’s what you’ve decided is best for you, then I’ll make it what’s best for me too.”

“What?” Veronica blinked.

“What do you mean what?”

“That was the part where you were supposed to say I’m the most irritating person you’ve ever met,” Veronica said dumbly, so used to it that she couldn’t fathom it _not_ being said. “Are you sure you don’t want to say it?”

“Nah,” Lena stifled it down and saved her broken heart for later. “Not this time. You’re, er, you’re still my best friend, or maybe just my oldest friend, it gets blurry after a while. Everything about this sucks but I’m not going to make this about me. If you need to go to Tangier then I’ll be here when you come home. It’s as simple as that.”

“Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“Go home to Kara, please.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Veronica laughed slightly, then rolled over the other way towards the curtains. “We’re just not spring chickens, you’ll give yourself a bad back if you sleep on a soft mattress, and I prefer sleeping on my own. Go home please? I’ll call next week when I’m back.”

“Alright,” Lena pecked her ex-wife’s shoulderblade. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Make it your last.”

“Have you thought about what you want the ending to look like?” Veronica didn’t respond. “It’s okay if you haven’t. When you’ve decided, you just let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Go home, Lena,” Veronica sighed. “There’s a twenty-two year old smokeshow creeping through your drawers right now trying to figure you out in the absence of yourself. Go catch her red-handed, you’ll thank me later when you’ve got a perfect reason to put some bruises on her ass.”

“That… that doesn’t sound like the stupidest idea you had today.” Lena threw back the covers and shuffled over the rug in search of her underwear.

[Dare you to click](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

_Are you awake?_

_Indeedy I am, Mommy. How is Veronica?_

_Well she’s being very Veronica about it all. Unemotional to a fault. The sex was quick and very good. Is that a thing I’m allowed to admit?_

_Of course it is Mommy, I want you to feel good with people who make you feel good. Question is, is that a thing I’m allowed to admit?_

_I think you seek my approval on many things but the sovereignty of your emotional-workings isn’t one of them. Can I talk to you about something?_

_Yes Mommy, always._

Lena had remained paused over her phone for minutes, still undecided on how to articulate herself, but she re-read the text she had drafted at least six times and was without the wherewithal to care if she sounded off-brand anymore.

Things had changed, they had changed, nothing about their dynamic was the same as it had been in the beginning. Lena felt her emotions were irrevocably involved now, and what was most unsettling was how settled it all felt in her heart. She trusted Kara, understood that this wasn’t just procedural or transactional, and she had Veronica to thank for that gift. Trouble was, she just didn’t know quite what to do with it.

_My original plan was to come home without warning and find a reason to punish you in a Mommy/little princess kind of way. I like the way it makes me feel when we do the things we do together and I don’t know how to talk to you about it with all the upheaval going on. I don’t want to seem callous or unaffected, but I also want to come home and lose myself in you for the rest of the weekend. Is that a thing we could negotiate around?_

Lena watched the ticks turn to blue, and then the grey thought-bubbles of a text on the brink of itself appeared. They came up on the screen, went away, came up, went away, as though Kara was re-drafting and thinking about it with some sense of hesitancy. Lena watched as the city pulled into view from across the bridge, fifteen minutes, give or take, and the driver would have her home. Whatever the answer was, Lena hoped that Kara would draw her conclusion sooner rather than later.

_Thank you for asking Mommy, yes please. Would it be helpful if I go and get up to some trouble for you to catch me red-handed? How long do I have before your arrival?_

Lena grinned from ear to ear, her thumbs moving before her brain had finished stringing the words together.

_Ten minutes-ish._

The apartment was exactly as she had left it, and despite the craving for something to be out of place, for a reason to punish, for a reason to lose herself, she was privately grateful for the familiarity of her surroundings being left just so. The island countertop was clean, the dishes put away, the living room blanket folded neatly over the back of the sofa, the fading warm scent from vanilla candles that had been put out, and these things presented her with a sense of stability.

Lena was home, and she was safe, and Kara respected her enough to treat her home with a sense of deliberate care. Lena knew she shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but pleasantly surprised she was, still.

There was a murmuring, muffled sound emanating from upstairs. A television, or perhaps a laptop. Lena kicked her shoes off and didn’t announce herself, instead she took the stairs carefully and quietly.

The noise seemed to come from the cinema cosy—which was merely a grand term for a spare bedroom that had a projector screen and comfy large corner sofa—but Lena tip-toed and strained her ear to the sound of tiny, lovely whimpers. She knew what would greet her, and it was better than she expected, naughty but not offensive, gorgeous yet rude and funny and polite all at once, Lena stood there like a ghost, unacknowledged and yet privy to everything.

From where she stood, she watched two taut thighs hang open with a fur blanket entwined around Kara’s ankles, fingers dipping down and stirring a frenzy between her puffy little cunt, eyes closed and chest push-pulling, all while the porn droned on without them, almost.

“It’s way past your bedtime, that’s the first thing.” Lena growled, undoing her belt from her jeans. “Do we need to get into the other offences? Do they need to be pointed out or is that… _redundant_ , little girl?”

***

In one moment, with just one sentence, it felt as though the dust had been blown right off of them. There wasn’t a world outside with complex, arbitrary pains. There wasn’t the juggling act of context or periphery or any people other than each other. Mommy was home, brooding, darkened, furious and joyous all at once, and Kara had craved for this for… _too long_.

Kara brought her knees up to her chest like a frightened rabbit. Beneath the surface, she was anything but frightened. Mommy walked around, leather belt in hand, and sat herself down slowly in the arm chair adjacent to the corner sofa. Kara privately understood the instruction, she closed her eyes and felt her giant breaths simper and flood her lungs outwards against her ribs.

When she opened her eyes again, Mommy stared across at her like she was the smallest little fool in the world. Her emerald eyes narrowed and fixed, tongue briefly running her pearly white teeth, shoulders puffed and back pressing deeper against the arm chair with stiff leather bundled inside her fist.

God, she looked powerful. Without the imposition of the office, the business formal, the game of personal secretary and unyielding boss, there was nothing but domesticity and private thoughts of what it would be like to come home to this, to live like this, to have this all the time and not just sparingly.

It only made Kara throb in good places.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Kara whispered. “I didn’t think you would be home so early.” She planted her feet back on the rug and pushed herself up, resisting a giddy smile, trudging over to the patted knee that had spread itself for her.

Over Mommy’s lap, in Mommy’s arms, cheek pressed against safe shape of her, Kara felt home. A deep breath was exhaled by both of them simultaneously, as though a great weight they had been shouldering had slowly dissipated.

“How many strikes do you think you deserve, princess?”

“Can we start with twenty please, Mommy?” Kara murmured politely, adjusting so her bottom was pushed high, burying herself down until Lena’s knee was pressing into her belly.

Kara breathed in and centred herself as a calm, steady hand glided along her bare spine. When it reached the dimples on her back, thumb pressing into her tailbone, she nodded, failing to stifle her giggle.

“It’s a punishment, remember?” Mommy barely held on to her own laugh, thwacking her hard. “Such a bad, naughty little girl, rubbing your little fucking whore-knot without my permission—” Kara gasped hard and loud, her neck craning backwards as a hand took a fistful of her hair.

“Oh that’ll do it, Mommy.” Kara husked, felt her eyes grow wide, her brain flooding with a rush of pleasure chemicals all at once. “I’m so, so sorry Mommy, I promise I was thinking of you,” Kara murmured in the back of her throat, and she watched a grin creep up Lena’s cheeks.

“Thinking of me?” Lena hit her again, hard.

“How nice it feels when you suck my clit, Mommy. How nice it feels when you pin me down and fuck me hard. How nice it feels when you cuddle with me afterwards…”

“Cute, but it won’t get you out of dodge, sweetie.” Mommy struck her again, but it was too late, her face had already lit up and gave her away.

Fuck, they needed this.

***

Her hands and feet were secured with rope in such a way that it left her in a hogtie, resting her weight through her side while her hands and feet were tied firmly behind her back. The ribbon had been looped and hitched through her ponytail, pulled tight, forcing her neck backwards so that it was almost over-extended but not unmanageable. She couldn’t see Mommy and that only made every sound more visceral.

“Mommy?” Kara whimpered, fidgeting.

“Hush, princess.” Mommy didn’t skip a beat, opening and closing drawers. “You just lie there with your sore bottom and drippy little cunt, enjoy the reprieve, it’ll be the least of your problems so very very soon.”

“I was only thinking of you Mommy,” Kara whined and played along, but it was also the truth, every glide, every stroke, every muffled whimper, all of it soaked in the thought of Lena exorcising her mood. “I just wanted to feel good the way you make me feel good—”

“If you can’t be quiet then I guess I’ll just have to help you with that too princess.” Mommy interrupted and sighed, and when she finally came into view the stern flex of her jaw was a sight to behold.

Lena stood in her sweater, nude from the waist down, her underwear bunched inside her hand. What made it so lovely and domestic was the lack of immaculateness that usually dictated their sexual interactions. Mommy was in cashmere, her black cotton underwear removed and held between her fingers, no silk or lace in sight.

“Open your mouth,” Mommy instructed and stuffed them between her bite.

Mommy’s underwear tasted like the shower she had just taken. Kara held her mouth open until her eyes were made to water, until Mommy had pressed and poked every last bit of the material inside, she closed her lips when the gentle finger beneath her chin guided her just so. Mommy grabbed the pink bondage tape, yanked it with a screeching rip, wrapped it around her mouth and the back of her neck until she couldn’t spit them out even if she tried.

“Can you breathe through your nose?” Mommy asked when she was finished, waiting and appraising until Kara nodded enthusiastically. “Good girl, if you need to adjust or take a break you say _uh-uh-uh_.” Lena demonstrated with a slow shake of her head, and dutifully Kara mimicked. “Very good.” She swiftly turned and wandered back out of sight.

The sound of drawers opening and closing resumed, things gathered, some put back down, some placed aside, and Kara was left with her own imagination and thought processes throughout. _Que sera,_ Mommy sang under her breath, the familiar sound of a wooden cane whipping through the air following like a crescendo. _Whatever will be, will be._

Kara closed her eyes and felt herself grow needy. Mommy seemed to be aware of her internal processes, laughing, unbothered, slow and unrushed. Eventually Kara felt Lena’s weight sink on the bed, but she didn’t open her eyes, it was more fun when she didn’t know what was coming.

“You look so pretty when you can’t get yourself into trouble,” Mommy hummed and followed the rope with her fingers to the back of Kara’s hair, then massaged her neck with her long nails and fingertips. “Though, I suppose that doesn’t make you any less of a troublemaker, does it?” Kara snapped her eyes open as the first clamp bit into her nipple. “Hush now. Big girls don’t cry, Kara.” Mommy sighed.

***

Lena felt that she was enjoying it a whole lot more than she should.

Not the bondage or the Mommy play, she would never feel guilty about that, but enjoying Kara sobbing? She felt as though she shouldn’t love it — and yet the inner-workings of her body just didn’t get the memo. Kara whimpered, big fat hideous tears that only a mother could love dripping down her cheeks, and Lena felt herself grow wetter and wetter.

Luckily, she had just the good girl to clean her up.

“Twenty seconds,” Lena said, her tone clipped and short.

“Mommy!” Kara cried as Lena took the vibrator away from between her legs. “Please, please, please I was so close—”

Lena pushed her hips forward and positioned herself back over Kara’s face. She gave her baby girl a helping hand, sinking her weight down, grinding over her tear-stained face, unable to stop the moans falling out of her mouth when Kara’s hiccups and eager flicking little tongue worked her up.

“Seven, six, five,” Lena paused, her breath fastening as Kara’s oxygen-deprived mouth worked harder and faster to get her to cum. “Four, three, two—” Lena sank her hips down completely and grinded her cunt without mercy.

When Lena drew her hips away and allowed Kara to breathe, it came in gasps and sobs that only served to work Lena up harder. The game was simple—brutal—but simple. Lena would edge Kara towards the finish-line of her orgasm, and then just before she could explode, Lena would stop and sit on her face for a small, determined amount of time. If Kara could make her Mommy cum before she got bored of the game then Lena would let her cum too. And if she couldn’t…

Lena would ruin her orgasm just for the fun of it.

“Mommy, please!” Kara panted. “Please sit on my face, please, please, just sit on my face until you cum—”

“But then where would be the challenge in that, princess?” Lena grabbed a sore nipple and twisted it between her fingers. “No, I think this is far more fun — I bet you have a few more edges in that pretty cunt of yours.” She flicked the wand vibrator back on and positioned it between twitching thighs.

When Kara’s eyes rolled in the back of her skull, the whimpers and sobs slowed and silenced into tiny panting breaths. Kara was a woman out of her own skin, exhausted, edged, aroused beyond words and desperate to cum. Lena almost took pity on her and let her have it. But, spare the rod…

“Mommy please!” Kara bucked and begged. “Mommy please I’m close—”

“Hold it,” Lena ordered.

“Mommy!”

“Hold it!” Lena barked, barely resisting the smirk when Kara began to weep again. “Okay, alright, how about this, if I let you cum—a reward I don’t believe you have yet earned—then what will you do for me?”

“I’ll make you cum Mommy!”

“Oh I know you will,” Lena hushed and rubbed her clenching belly. “What else?”

Kara paused, thighs shaking, swollen clit bucking down into the vibrator while her mouth failed to find words. It was as though she couldn’t process salient thought, like a pretty little dolly whose only purpose was to suffer and luxuriate — one in the same. Lena just pressed the vibrator deeper and harder into her folds.

“Fuck!” Kara shivered. “You… you can fist me, Mommy. I’ll wear pretty pink frills and bend over your desk and take it like such a good girl.” Her eyes snapped open all of a sudden. “Please, please I’m so close!”

“Thirty seconds.” Lena clicked the vibrator off and took it away from Kara’s folds.

“Mommy!” Kara threw her head backwards and sobbed.

Again, Lena straddled her face and sunk her hips down. The hiccups and sloppy kisses vibrated up through her core and sent her spine slack, Lena fisted the sheets either side of Kara’s head and knew she wouldn’t last this time. She didn’t want to. The thought of Kara in pink frills and stockings, spread out and stuffed full, crying and forced to squirt. It was fucking delicious, it was wonderful, and she wanted it six ways to Sunday.

“Fuck baby I think I’m going to cum,” Lena whispered and felt hands slip around and clutch her thighs tight. “Good girl, good girl—” She cried out and began to buck. “Fuck, yes, I love you!” Lena gritted her teeth. “I love you baby, such a fucking good little girl.”

Lena realised what she said just as the orgasm hit it’s peek.

She didn’t care, she meant it.

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